The Assassin's Sister
by tavingtonsbeauty
Summary: Altaïr Ibn-La'Ahad was the master assassin at the time of the crusades. However, his half-sister, journeyed with him, becoming one of his most valuable parts of his assassin order. However, this story explores the relationship they would have had. Altair, master assassin and protective brother and A'sha, assassin and free spirited sister. One family, one brotherhood, one story.
1. Prologue - Snow Blind

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 1 – Prologue - Snow Blind

It was cold.

The snow was deep. So deep, in places, that she was nearly to her waist in the drifts.

This was the road to Masyaf, she had been told. She had to find it. It would be her only safety now.

She sighed.

Her body hurt. Her feet hurt. Her back hurt. She was wholly unused to walking for so many miles so. However, she was not sure if the pains were from walking so much, the cold, or from the child she carried.

She could hardly see before her, but she needed to press on. She knew if she stopped, she would die here, in the snow, unfriended, with no one to mourn her, and no one to look for her. Her body would be buried in snow and not found until the thaw. She closed her eyes a moment, willing such thoughts from her mind.

Just then she heard something. She turned her head trying to hear it again.

It was nothing more than the sigh of the wind.

The snow was piling deeper and the wind was moving it about. She had long since lost the feeling in her feet, hands, legs, and arms, but she knew to stop moving was certain death. So, she pressed onward, still not fully sure of the way.

Suddenly, something wrapped about her, between her breasts and the swell of the child, propelling her backwards, startling her. She found herself on her bottom, blinking upwards at the form beside her, whose arm was still about her. She could feel the warmth from the form as it leaned close to her.

"What are you doing?" It hissed, a distinct male voice and Syrian at that. "You almost went over the cliff you little fool."

She blinked and he pointed as the snow swirled, revealing the treacherous narrow canyon near them. She was only a few feet from the edge she realized.

She shivered, almost violently at the thought of falling into the canyon. It would have been quicker than freezing to death, assuming she died on the stones far below. If not, she would have been in agony until death took her either from blood loss or exposure. Neither were appealing.

The form bent close again. "Allah! You are nearly frozen." He put an arm around her back. He was strong and muscled. "Come. You need warmth. Any would parish out here. Umar!" He barked turning his head. It was the first time she could see his face clearly, well under his hood anyway. He was wearing a wrap about his mouth and nose and he had something over his eyes that had small slits in them to see out of.

She blinked as he helped her to her feet. Umar? She knew that name. Her lips quivered as a second man ducked down and froze looking at her.

"Sitt!" He gasped.

"Umar." She greeted, her voice sounding strained, even to her own ears.

He pulled her into his embrace, almost roughly, under the cloak he wore. He had his arms about her. Strong and powerful, he held her to him, trying to warm her with his own heat, feeling how cold she was.

"You know her brother?" The first asked.

"I do." Umar nodded. He began to lead her in a different direction. As they moved, phantom shapes of buildings came into view, materializing from the blizzard like wraiths. Umar kept the girl against his body, half dragging, half carrying her along. She shivered against him. His hand lifted to her face, even through the glove he wore he could feel how cold she was. It would be a wonder if she did not suffer more than hypothermia. Perhaps frostbite or a fever. He prayed not, but it was a possibility.

"Stay with me, Sitt." He murmured as he bent close. Umar was a tall man, nearly six feet to her slight and small, barely five. "Not long now and you will be warm."

"So cold, Umar." She whispered, teeth shaking. Her feet felt like the stones of the canyon. She paused, blinking before she dropped so alarmingly fast into the snow, neither man had time to catch her.

Fareem had been following behind, their progress slow with the girl.

"Fareem!" Umar barked to the other as he dropped to his knees, the wind carrying his voice away. He lifted the girl into his arms, startled to see, as he shifted her more against him, the swell of her belly. He swallowed and pulled his cloak about them.

Fareem came to his side. He too had seen. "So not just one innocent, but two." He said.

"Yes." Umar said. "So, it would seem." He agreed. "I take responsibility for both." He said. Fareem himself had a wife in the keep who would soon deliver their second child. Umar's first wife had died in childbirth, but had given him Altair, his son.

"Her clothing looks Saracen." Fareem said. "What if it is a trap?"

"She would not harm us brother."

"Any follower of Saladin would find us the enemy."

"Sitt is not a common Saracen." Umar said. "And the child she bears is mine."

Fareem paused. "What?" He blinked as Umar continued walking. "Are you so certain? It has been months since you were in Damascus."

"I will tell you all soon enough, but first I must care for her and the child within her." Umar said.

Though his voice was calm, Umar was not. His mind raced as they walked into the fortress and then into the keep. Umar made his way to his quarters, larger than most who lived there, like Fareem, being a master assassin. He sent Fareem for a healer and for Al Mualim.

Umar laid her on the bed, his bed, as he moved and built a fire to warm the room. He quickly moved, pulling off his cloak, face wrap, snow goggles, and boots, pulling on his soft shoes before collecting dry clothing for her. He quickly stripped her, pausing a moment as he remembered her writhing under him in pleasure months ago. He dismissed those thoughts for now as he dressed her in loose clothing that were his own. She swam in them, but they were warm and dry at least.

He sat beside her looking at her dreamy, red blotched face. She had a fever. He lifted an icy foot to his lap, inspecting it. He did not have the glossy white look of digits with frostbite, but they were so cold. He rubbed it, trying to draw the heat from her head down to her lower limbs. He did the same for the other.

He was looking at her hand, seeing that at least two of her fingers bore the tell-tale signs of frostbite. He prayed she would be able to keep them, but the healer would have to watch and gauge that. He lifted a hand to her dark hair.

"You are safe now, Sitt." He murmured. "I will keep you safe." He tucked her into the blankets and gently caressed the hand he held absently to let her know he was there, somewhere in the depths of her consciousness. He could tell that she now slept. Her breathing had become easier.

How did she come to be here? They had been lovers six months ago while he sought information in Damascus. She had provided him with the perfect way to follow the guards about the royal palace. He assumed she worked there for she moved freely in the gardens. The city gardens were where he had met her. Strange that a noblewoman was unguarded, but he learned that she had a talent for moving about away from the guards.

However, the day they parted company, he followed her to the palace and witnessed a guard bowing to her and calling her princess when he tried to bar her entrance due to some public unrest that day. It was this reason Umar had followed her, to keep her safe. A Princess meant she was a member of Saladin's household and a close family member. A daughter? A sister? Widowed sister-in-law perhaps?

He had meant to speak to her again, but his tasks had not taken him back to the Saracen capital.

Still, the girl had been intelligent, clever, beautiful, and helpful. She provided him shelter when he was away from the Bureau at night and twice had distracted the guards in order for him to move a body and hide.

Now she had nearly died in a blizzard to come to Masyaf. Why ever for? She would have had a good life within the Saracen harem. Like the Ottomans, the harem was a place of learning for women, not just a palace of sex for the sultan. It was also home to any female relations to Saladin. As a princess, she would have had a life of privilege though it was clear she rejected some of that life by how she acted with him. Still, she was here, away from her family. She had risked all to come. Her life and that of her child.

Saladin was not known for being a merciful man to those who crossed him. His elder sister had been raped and killed by the Templars under the command of the King of Jerusalem. His justice had been swift for those involved. A sister's betrayal? She had run from death, bought of a guard and escaped. Perhaps he was not of a mind to kill her outright? If he loved her so much, but could not stand that she had a child in her belly out of marriage, he had likely exiled her to be on her own. This would keep innocent blood off his hands, though he would be in his rights as sultan to take her life. At times this was better than exile.

Without money, a place, a home, or a friend, such victims often turned to petty crime or prostitution just to keep food in their bellies. They it was only a matter of time before death came to them, and often before their time.

But she had made it to Masyaf. Perhaps, though angry, Saladin had provided her with a little money to find somewhere. Likely he was not expecting her to travel far. Perhaps he expected her to return and beg him to take her back. Umar, would not allow her to return to her people. She would be safe here, among his people and his child would be welcomed.

Fareem had an interesting point. Was it his? He was the last he knew who had bedded her. Her belly looked about six months gone and she had been virgin when he had first taken her to his bed. Still, did it truly matter if the child was not his to him? He would claim it and raise it as his own. Sitt, deserved to be cared for after the help she had provided.

There was a knock.

"Enter." Umar said looking up.

The door opened to reveal Yusuf, the healer, and Al Mualim.

Umar rose to his feet, bowing his head to them wordlessly as Yusuf returned the greeting and then went to the girl to see to her.

"Mentor." Umar said softly as he came to Al Mualim's side.

Al Mualim looked at the girl in the master assassin's bed. She looked small and young in sleep. Her belly was visible in a mount under the blankets that Umar had tucked about her. "Who is she Umar?" Al Mualim asked. "Fareem said only that she had the look of a Saracen and was heavy with child."

"She is one. At least born to them." Umar said. "But she is an assassin now. She wishes to make a home here now."

Al Mualim whirled on his pupil. "That is not your judgement to make, but mine, Umar." He said sharply. He then took a breath. "Why would such a beautiful girl forsake her people to come here and nearly die in a blizzard with a child in her womb?"

Umar was about to answer when they heard something and both turned.

"I was cast out." Came a soft female voice. Hoarse, but delicate and yet there was a there was a strength behind it, like velum.

All three men looked at her as she looked at them, eyes bright with the fever she was fighting, but weary and unsure.

"Cast out?" Al Mualim asked.

The girl nodded and coughed a little. She then looked at him curiously. "You are the old man of the mountain."

Umar suppressed a smile. Clever girl.

Al Mualim nodded. "I am child. I am Al Mualim, Mentor and Master of Masyaf." He looked at Umar expectantly.

Umar took a breath. "Sitt al-Shām bint Ayyūb," he said.

Al Mualim blinked. "A daughter of Saladin here?"

"Not a daughter." The girl corrected. She coughed again and took a moment to collect herself. "I am his last sister and youngest sibling." She looked down and swallowed hard. "Until he disowned me."

"And why would he do such a thing?" Al Mualim asked.

She shook her head and moved the blanket, revealing the swell more fully.

Al Mualim nodded. "And you met Umar in his travels and then tried come be with strangers rather than your own people?"

She looked away from the one-eyed stare of the assassin leader. "At least he cares for his brothers and sisters, no matter their faults."

Al Mualim watched as the girl had a coughing attack that caused Yusuf to pull her forward and hold her as she fought for breath. He shook his head as she quieted and gently started to make a paste along with tea for her.

The Mentor looked to the window. He looked out at the blowing snow and the looming shapes of rocky crags about near them. "It is wrong to keep a man from his offspring." He turned back. "We will return you to Damascus when the storm lifts and you are well enough for travel." He moved to leave.

"But master." She said, pausing in drinking the warm liquid the healer was making her drink.

He paused and turned back. His bad eye made her uneasy, but she looked at the bowed form of Umar and then back. "The father isn't in Damascus."

"Oh?" He asked. "You need rest child. This fever has made you forget memories."

Umar took a step forward, lifting his head to look at Al Mualim. "I am the father, Mentor."

Al Mualim too a breath. "We will speak of this again soon enough. We are all in need of rest. The girl is your responsibility while she remains here, Umar. Keep her safe, out of harm, and away from our secrets."

Umar bowed as the master left.

ZzZ

For three days, the girl battled the fever. Umar did not leave her side. The coughing spells left her weakened and in need of rest. The storm would keep travel at bay anyway.

On the fourth day, her fever had broken. Umar had been sleeping in the same bed, clothed, as she was, a blanket between them, but his presence gave her comfort and she slept more soundly with him there.

Something woke him.

He looked about and ran a soft hand over her brow. The fever was gone. She slept now. She was facing him, small body tucked into a ball beside him.

He felt it again.

He blinked and his hand moved lower, down her arm, to her belly.

Her eyes opened and she smiled as he looked down in wonder as he felt it again, this time against his palm. "Is that…"

She smiled and nodded. "Our child." She whispered.

He caressed the swell. "Sitt. I will protect you. Marry you. Give this child my name. But I must know. Is there any other who could have sired it?"

She shook her head. "I have only lain with one man, Umar." She cocked her head. "You mean that. You would take me and this child even if it was not yours."

"I would." He said. "It needs a father. You need a husband."

"Will I like it here, Umar?"

He nodded and kissed her softly. "Come. We will feed you a real meal and then bring you to the Mentor. He has questions."

She nodded and moved, lifting her bulk upwards with a heave. He smiled as he came around the bed to her. He as surprisingly helpful in helping her dress in the rough spun dress of a woman of Masyaf.

Together they ate in the mess hall, ignoring the looks of the assassins about them, before he took her hand and led her to the master's study.

He knocked and then entered. "Master." He bowed.

She entered and did the same, awkwardly, but the respectful gesture was not lost of the assassin leader.

"Welcome to Masyaf, Sitt the Saracen." Al Mualim said regarding her as she straightened to look at him.

Umar smiled at her encouragingly.

"I wish to remain here, Master." She said softly.

"Do you?" Al Mualim asked. "And why should I allow you to remain here, you, the sister of an enemy?"

"Because I have no other home." She said simply. "If you throw me out as well, where will I do? Where will I have my child?"

Umar stepped forward. "Master, to removed an innocent needing aid goes against everything we stand for." He cocked his head at his mentor. "She risked her life and the life of the innocent in her womb, to come to us, to be safe here. Even if she is the sister of an enemy. It is not her fault for whom she was born to. However, she made a choice who to stand with. That should have some respect."

Al Mualim took a breath. "Wise words Umar." He looked to the girl. "Does your brother know who fathered your child?"

"No." she said.

"But you came here looking for him."

"He told me he was from Masyaf." She said. Al Mualim's eye shot up at the master assassin. She lifted a hand. "I keep my own council, Master. I assure you. My brother is a harsh man. Umar wasn't like any of the men my brother wished me to marry. He was calm, collected, loved me without judgement."

"The information you gathered. Sitt helped you then?"

Umar nodded. "Yes. In some measure."

Al Mualim stepped to him seeing the look of affection that passed between them. He lifted his hand and slapped Umar's face with the back of his hand startling the assassin and the girl both. "You should have returned to ensure the welfare of your child."

Umar blinked. "Had I known, Master, I would have."

Al Mualim grunted. "You broke a tenant of our laws. Never betray the brotherhood."

Sitt took a breath. "Yes, but he also knew I would not reveal it." She looked at the master, small, defiant, round as a pear. "Many secrets I keep from my brother. Had I been able I would have left and come without him disowning me."

"He would have looked for you." Al Mualim said.

"Perhaps." She said. "He has little time for the whims of women."

Al Mualim shook his head and then sighed. "You are safe to stay here as long as you wish under my protection. Your child will remain here, even if you choose to leave these hallowed walls. If you stay, we have knowledge for you, but know the betrayal of this knowledge has a heavy price, child."

"I have no other home now Mentor of the Assassins."

Umar touched her hand and lifted it to his lips. "You do now."

The Mentor sighed. "You will wed her by the next full moon, Umar. Your child should not be born a bastard."

"I hope to wed her sooner, Mentor."

The mentor nodded. "I will allow it and your honeymoon."

The girl gasped and then moved, embracing the mentor, startling him and Umar both. It was against protocol to touch him without permission, but after a moment, the old man relaxed and embraced her back gently before he set her back from him.

Al Mualim dismissed them.

He was not about to step between such a love match. She clearly had made her choice and well Saladin knew it. She had chosen her lover over her own family. That was why she had been exiled. A child without a father could be spirited away, but he suspected this defiant girl had stood up against him, speaking not who her lover was, but that she planned to live with him, against the sultan's wishes.

Al Mualim would have to keep her on a tight leash to make sure she never betrayed her new family this way, though it was plain enough, for now, she had the heart of an assassin.

Umar brought her back to their rooms and sat her down in a chair before the fire. "Why did you not send word?" He asked, offering her some tea before he sat down himself, regarding her.

She looked at him. "Like what? I fell pregnant. Come save me from my gilded cage."

"You were free when I knew you. To at least send a letter."

"I ran away. I was free with you. I liked it."

He sighed and reached out, patting her leg. "What a mess you made my dear."

She cracked a bitter laugh. "I was so afraid." She then took his hand, his left, the one with his ring finger removed. "Not when I am with you."

He moved and bent to kiss her, his hand against her belly as his child kicked. He broke the kiss. "Now, now, Little cub. Do not hurt your momma." He said after feeling her wince. "I will meet you soon enough."

ZzZ

There was a small knock, after Sitt slept. Umar had returned to his chair by the fire to read. He looked up as the door opened and a five-year-old came in. "Father?" the boy asked.

"Ah… Altair." Umar said smiling, speaking softly.

"Why are you whispering?" The boy asked.

"So, we do not wake your new step-mother." Umar said bending to lift the boy into his arms. He nodded to the sleeping form in the bed. He walked back to the fire and held the boy on his lap.

Altair looked at the woman sleeping in his father's bed. She was young, pretty, and had their olive coloring. Her thick dark hair was in a thick braid behind her as she lay in a loose ball about herself.

"Step-mother?"

Umar nodded. "She has your brother or sister inside her."

Altair looked at him. "Why did she eat it?"

Umar chuckled. "She did not. However, the child will come in a few short months."

"I want a brother to play with."

Umar nodded. "It is passed your bedtime, young man. In the morning, I will introduce you. You will like her. She is generous and kind."

"I always wanted a mother." Altair said, knowing his own mother had died. "Can I call her that?"

"I am sure she would love it, if you did." Umar said lying him down in his cot in the dormitory with the other boys of the order. "Goodnight, my son." He said.

Umar walked back through the halls to his rooms. He shut the door and sighed looking at the sleeping form. How much his life had changed in a very short amount of time. He would be a father again. He would have a mother for his son and coming child.

He had to admit, he was happier than he had been in several years, at least since Maud had died. He felt a calming peace about him.

Sitt would be his wife.

It was good.


	2. Born into the Order

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 2 – Born into the Order

A Scream was heard.

It carried, bouncing from stone wall to stone wall, gaining the attention of nearly everyone within the great fortress.

Al Mualim looked up from his desk.

The scream had been female. There were few enough of them within the walls. He took a breath and rose to his feet slowly.

There was a knock on his study door.

"Enter."

The door opened to reveal Kareem, the eldest of the Al-Sayf brothers, the sons of Fareem. The teenager, bobbed his head in apology in disturbing the master.

"Out with-it child." The Mentor said in exasperation.

He heard another cry above him, the Master Assassin tower. That narrowed it down to three women, Sitt, wife of Umar, Karima, wife of Fareem, and Daya, wife of Tamir. All three women, wives of Master assassins.

Al Mualim had heard that cry several times since moving his assassins to Masyaf. It was the cry of a woman laboring to bring forth new life. He would never understand why Allah made it so painful for them, and at times death came to them as well. A mystery.

Still it narrowed it further. Karima was pregnant with her third child while Sitt, pregnant with her first, had not wholly been ready for the changes the body went through to carry a child. Large and clumsy, she moved about with all the grace of a camel on the sands and had taken to throwing things to show her displeasure. Both women were due to have their children in short order.

The boy seemed to be gaining his breath back. "Mother says Lady Sitt is in labor. She calls for Umar."

Al Mualim nodded. "I will have him summoned. "He is not far. I had him remain on patrols in the area knowing her time was near." He looked up at an assassin passing by. "Aabazari, can you ride to find Umar. His wife labors to bring his child. It would be best for him to come."

The assassin saluted and moved off.

Al Mualim looked at the young boy. "Who is with the lady?"

"My mother, Lady Daya, Malik, and Altair."

"You should gather your brother and Altair to go play outside. A woman in such a state will say things she does not mean and utter words boys so young should not hear."

The boy nodded as Al Mualim followed him at a slower pace. Yusuf turned a corner and saluted the Mentor with a hand over his heart.

"Mentor."

"Come then. Apparently this child is in a hurry to come into the world." Al Mualim said ruefully.

"First children are often slow to come, but very painful for the lady in question."

"Indeed."

They walked to the rooms of Umar, master assassin.

Karima was walking about the room, holding Sitt as they walked together, heads bent close, speaking. Altair was on the other side of Sitt, hands on his step-mother, trying to comfort her. At five, he had no idea what was happening other than the woman he had come to love as his mother, was in pain.

Sitt had wed Umar only days after arriving. The assassins who were at the fortress all attended as Al Mualim married them. The happiest person of the group was Altair, who craved the attentions of a mother.

Sitt had been so welcoming of her son and had taken him under her wing. His presence often calmed her and he liked to lay with her, caressing her hair or her back to ease her. He braided her hair absently while Umar read to them to pass the time as the child within her grew.

The idea of a sibling appealed to the young boy almost as much as having a mother.

However, now he fretted, tears in his eyes with worry about his mother.

Kareem found Malik, standing to the side, wide eyed as he watched his mother and Daya trying to soothe Sitt. The women had brought bricks, but the baby needed to be further down, the head showing before they could have her on them.

All Mualim walked to the two women as Daya set about to boil water, seeing to healing herbs, blankets, and calming incense. It was early spring yet, and the snows were still about and storms could still bring sudden heavy snows at any time.

Today, however, was a thunderstorm.

A loud crack caused everyone in the room to jump, though Al Mualim nodded to Karima. "I will take a few laps around the room. "See to your sons for a few moments." He said nodding to Kareem and Malik.

She took a breath bowing her head to the Mentor as he took Sitt who looked at him in surprise. A pain came upon her after they had walked a few steps. The mentor calmly hummed as he caressed her back to ease the powerful contraction.

This had been going on for far longer than the first cry he had heard. Her contractions were strong and nearly constant with only a few moments between. Yusuf had made a tea and offered it to the young woman as the pain eased. She took it gratefully.

She then looked down and saw Altair. He refused to go with Kareem. "Go play, Altair."

"But momma! You are hurting. I can help! Let me help!" He begged, tearfully.

Al Mualim smiled gently. "There is little you can do for her until your sibling comes, Altair. Go play. We will send for you when the baby is here. I promise. We will look after your momma."

He seemed unconvinced, but allowed Kareem to pick him up and take him away from the room, his free hand bringing Malik with him. Since the storm had come up, Kareem took them to the indoor arena where they could play with play swords. Soon the boys were distracted.

Yusuf came to the girl after she gasped that she felt something. "The head!" He called. "She is ready." He said nodding to Al Mualim and the women who moved into action.

"Where is Umar!" The girl whimpered, weary and nearly delirious from pain. "He promised…promised he would come."

"I sent for him." Al Mualim said softly touching her hair.

She seemed to notice for the first time he was there. "Mentor!" She gasped. "How…why are you here?"

"Every child born to my order, I attend their birth." He said caressing her back as they helped her stand on the clay bricks. Daya took her other side as Yusuf knelt gently, waiting. This was one of many children he had helped come into the world.

"With the next pain, Sitt, you must bear down. Push the child from you." Yusuf told her, his hands on her knees under the thin shift she wore. "Do you understand?"

She took a breath and nodded before she cried out and pressed downward with all her might.

Yusuf patted her thigh. "Good…good. Just like that. I know you are tired. Let them help you." He said gently.

Normally, a place of women, the assassins were firm believers in having the father, the mentor, and any other male relatives there to greet the child and to keep the woman calm and aid the child coming into the world.

It was hard on both mother and child and if the room was full of love, acceptance, and help, it seemed to help.

Just then the door slammed open as Umar rushed in, forgetting all sense of decorum he ran to his wife's side, lifting her dropped head as she panted between pains. "Sitt! Sitt! My love!" He said gently, pressing a kiss to her sweaty brow.

"Umar…" She whispered.

The master assassin pulled off his weapons and climbed onto the bed behind her, sitting, legs to either side of her own, hands caressing, body anchoring her as he pressed his head to her shoulder. "I'm here, Sitt. Let us bring our child into the world." He murmured.

Two more pushes and the baby slid from her. Yusuf caught the small slimy creature in his arms.

The girl dropped, like a boneless fish into the arms of her husband, who caught her awkwardly. Her sudden faint had caught Al Mualim and Daya off guard as they watched Yusuf cut the cord, freeing the child from the mother as he bent using his mouth to suck the fluid from nose and mouth. He spat to the side as he was rewarded with a cry. Karima smiled and took the baby.

Umar slid from the bed down, holding his wife to him, gently rocking her like a child against his breast. She lived, just a faint.

Al Mualim moved opening the window after the infant was wrapped and squirming in her swaddling by the fire. The cool fresh air that rushed in made the adult shiver a little, but Sitt blinked, coming to, looking up at Umar.

After a few moments, Al Mualim closed the window again.

He smiled down at her, kissing her brow as he held her close. "You did it." He murmured. "Our child is here. Safely delivered." He had tears in his eyes. He caressed her sweat fouled hair and sighed. Yusuf came and caressed her belly, using pressure that was not exactly painful to Sitt, but was not comfortable.

The afterbirth slid from her and Yusuf then wrapped it and the bloody towels to be disposed of.

Umar moved, lifting his limp wife in his arms and carrying her to the bed. Though conscious, she was weakened. Towels had been laid to be under her. Women bled for days after a birth, it was well known. He settled her before he turned, seeing Karima come to him with the small bundle.

Umar took the small bundle with the ease and experience of a father, looking down at the bright blue eyes looking back at him.

"She is a beautiful girl." Karima said smiling. "What do you call her?"

Umar looked back at her and blinked. He had thought of several boy names. He had never really considered having a daughter. He cocked his head a moment, mind thinking over names.

"A'shadieeyah bint Umar-La'Ahad." Al Mualim said coming to the foot of the bed.

Sitt looked at him and then up at Umar and smiled. She nodded, liking a name, a homage to her former life. Umar's free hand dropped, taking hers in his own. He smiled looking down at the bundle he held close to him. She was small, but healthy. "A princess indeed, my little one." He said softly.

ZzZ

Al Mualim smiled coming to Umar as Sitt drifted to sleep. "It is time for your child to meet the rest of her family." He said. He lifted his hands and Umar laid his daughter in them without question.

Al Mualim smiled a little. The child as still tired from the birth, not yet hungry to cry for the breast. Soon, however, she would need to suckle. By then, hopefully, Sitt would have rested enough to manage. The baby snuggled against him as he walked down to the main hall where the assassins had gathered, hearing that a child was to be born to them.

Al Mualim stood before them, at the top of the stairs, Umar, the proud father near him as the crowd hushed. "A good day for us Assassins. Another has been born to us, safely, and the mother rests comfortably. Welcome now A'shadieeyah bint Umar-La'Ahad."

The assassins in the hall cheered, waking the baby who looked about in panic. Al Mualim smiled and rocked her gentle to calm her as she whimpered even as new faces looked down at her and then offered a hand in congratulations to Umar.

The little girl, after an hour of so, became hungry and began to squirm. The soft whimpers of the infant reached the ears of her father. He knew well what it meant.

Umar had been talking to several of his brothers. He stepped forward and Al Mualim nodded, allowing him to take his daughter. It was then that Altair came into the hall.

"Father!" He called, running to Umar, who waited for him. The tiny baby was whimpering and having none of her father trying to pacify her with his finger.

Altair blinked. "Is that him?"

"No." Umar said smiling. He knelt down before his son. "It is not a him. This is your new sister."

Altair made a face, that Umar was sure every big brother pulled when they learned they had a sister. He smiled, taking his son's hand, they walked to the room.

Altair ran to the bed and bounced up, hugging Sitt before she was fully awake. "Momma!" He said, burying his head in her shoulder. She gasped, startled by the young boy crashing into her still tender body, but she loved him too much to complain. She smiled.

She looked up as she heard the soft whimpering calls of her baby in her husband's arms. She had been told what to do by Karima. She sat up against the pillows. Umar smiled and gently passed her the tiny baby.

Altair sat up, looking down at the red faced crying baby. He looked up at his father in confusion. "Is she hurt?"

"Just hungry." Umar said mildly. "You were the same." He chuckled. "Still are at times."

Altair folded his arms. "I am not. I never look like that. She doesn't even have teeth."

Sitt exchanged a look with Umar who shook his head playfully. She bared a breast and gently rubbed the cheek of the baby. Soon the tiny mouth rooted and found her aim. Sitt relaxed as the mouth suckled.

Umar caressed the tiny head of his new child and then caressed the cheek of his wife as he watched the tender scene. There were few things as moving as a woman nursing her child after both had come through a delivery. Thankfully there were no complications.

She looked so serene as the merciless mouth like the reaper of death suckled from her. The gums held on as she allowed her to drink as much as she wished. Umar had his arm over the legs of his wife, leaning on it as he watched the pair. He would occasionally dip down and kiss either the small brow or the lips of his wife, speaking words of affection to both.

Altair crawled into his lap, watching, utterly not convinced this was the sibling he wanted.

After, Umar lifted the baby, who now was nearly asleep again, burped her, changed her diaper, and laid her down in a cradle he had carved, gently humming. Sitt soon slept also to the sound. Umar used his foot to rock the cradle as he lifted a book. Altair moved from where he had been playing with a carved wolf and horse his father had given him.

He tried to look in the cradle, but he could not see the baby. He frowned and moved closer, leaning. Umar saw his son leaning dangerously over the rocking cradle and stopped it moving. "Come here, my son." He said.

Altair moved obediently to him. Umar lifted him up to look down at the sleeping baby. She looked so peaceful now, like a small doll. He looked back at his father. "She is so little father."

"Yes." He agreed. "She is smaller than you were."

The baby stirred a little and he moved the cradle with his free hand. She instantly settled again. He smiled. "It will be some time before she can play with you. For now she will sleep and eat."

Altair made a face. "Babies are boring."

Umar chuckled.

ZzZ

It was dawn.

Umar walked out to greet the new day with his sleeping daughter. He stood before the assassins in the courtyard. Though it was still damp and cool, the rain had stopped.

"This day, I Umar, proclaim this child to be my own. She will be raised among my people and she will always have a family."

The assassins cheered.

This time, the small girl slept through it.


	3. Loss for a Second Time

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 3 – Loss for a Second Time

Sitt, wife of Umar, Master Assassin, had been settling into her place among her new people. Saracen by blood, Assassin by marriage, Al Mualim had found her a place that fit her keen intelligence, but kept her out of most of the Assassin's affairs. He had placed her in charge of the food stores, noting her head for figures in very short order.

It kept her at the fortress, away from her brother and keenly under the Mentor of the Assassin's control. However, he always had an accurate log of exactly what they had in their stores. She was good at it and often, due to being a woman, was able to gain a good price for items that would have otherwise had a higher premium for the assassins

She had come to accept when Umar was sent on missions around the Holy Land and the Levant. She missed him always, but was grateful when he returned. While he was away, she bonded closely to Umar's growing son, and mothered both he and the daughter she had borne her husband three years past.

She was again with child, not far along, but far enough she was showing. Umar had been greatly pleased, as had Al Mualim.

Today, she was out of the fortress, gathering herbs from the passes around Masyaf. These herbs were key to medicines for winter, but they needed time to dry. She felt a little strange as she rode on horseback with Fareem Al-Sayf, a fellow Master Assassin to Umar and husband of her dear friend Karima, whom had herself mothered three sons, the eldest, Kareem, was now a novice assassin.

Umar, himself, had been sent to a neighboring town to deliver messages from Al Mualim. Though it was not the most glorifying and dignified task for a Master Assassin, it needed to be done, and the messages needed to be kept safe.

Sitt had finished plucking some of the leaves from a bush near her when she moved to a rock, leaning against it a moment. She felt out of breath. She shook her head in annoyance and moved to the next bush. Fareem had been seeing to the horses that had heard some stones nearby as some mountain sheep passed above them.

A second time she sat down on a rock. She looked about, eyes going heavenward. She had tears in her eyes, he noted as he drew close to her.

"Sitt? What is it?" He asked.

She turned her gaze to him and the tears ran down her cheeks, silently. She was pale.

He cocked his head, coming to her. "What is it?" He repeated.

She shivered and turned her head as she lifted the light travel cloak she wore back from her. He gasped, paling as well as he saw the great crimson stain that marred her dress down the front.

He galvanized into action knowing, as did she, that the child was lost. They had to save her. He lifted her in his arms. She was small, almost child-like as he moved, lifting her to his horse. He mounted behind her and held her as he rode back to Masyaf and the fortress, across the canyon from where they were now.

"Stay with me, Sitt. Please." He murmured.

She was sobbing in earnest when they arrived at the fortress.

"Help! I need help!" Fareem called.

Three assassins came forward. Two lifted down the woman. One picked her up in his arms.

"That has happened?" The third asked seeing the blood on Fareem's white assassin robes and the woman.

"Quickly, take her to Yusuf!" Fareem barked. "You." He turned to the third man. "Quickly, take my horse. Find Umar. He must come at once."

"Of course, Di, but why?"

Fareem leaned close to him, taking hold of his collar. "His wife is dying. Their child has come too soon."

The man gasped and mounted, freeing the gentle mare that had carried Sitt, and galloping off to find the master assassin, praying he would not be too late. They all knew Umar had lost one wife in child birth. A second could very well break him.

Yusuf had seen to the girl and had managed to control the hemorrhage, but Sitt was nearly delirious from blood loss and very weak. Fareem and Karima came to her side.

Fareem touched Yusuf's shoulder as the healer cleaned his hands of the dark life blood of his patient. "Well?"

"Take her to her rooms." He looked at the medical ward. "This is no place for her."

"So, she will heal." Fareem pressed softly.

Yusuf took a breath drying his hands. "I do not know, but you should send for her children and Al Mualim." He said softly looking at the pale form. "I have done all I can."

Fareem nodded soberly. He moved lifting the young woman in his arms.

Her eyes flashed open, but relaxed, seeing Fareem's face. "Fareem." She whispered.

"Rest, Sitt." He said gently, a gentle croon as though she was a child.

Karima came to his side. "Husband?"

"Find Altair and A'sha." He said gently. "And then send for Al Mualim."

She took a breath. She realized that Umar may not make it back in time before Sitt passed to the next life. She took a shaky breath, but steadied herself and went to do as her husband requested.

ZzZ

It was nearly dark, though one would hardly know it in the rooms of Umar. There were many candles lit as the worried family and friends of Sitt watched. On the bed with her were Altair, her beloved step son who gentle caressed her hair, braiding her hair, unbraiding it, and braiding it again absently as he watched his mother sleeping. He watched her breast rise and fall with each breath.

At eight, he knew something was amiss, and when he had asked the somber Mentor who stood by the bedside of his step-mother, the Mentor replied that she was very ill and dying. A'sha, at three, did not know what was happening, but could sense the tension, fear, and could smell the blood in the room.

She was snuggled against her mother's belly, one of her mother's arms about her, holding her close, as she listened to her heart beating under her ear. A soft sound. The calming sound she had listened to when she was in the womb. But the sound was different. It was skipping a beat here and there.

Sitt was as comfortable as she could be. She knew she was dying. She could feel the lifeblood dripping from her, not quickly as before, but steadily. It caused her eyelids to become heavy, her heart to skip a beat here and there, and for her breaths to be shallow. She, however, refused to leave without saying goodbye to the man who had saved her, married her, and loved her.

She was so sorry for losing his child and now herself. She had not felt well that morning. Had she stayed abed instead of gathering herbs as the master had requested, would things have been different? That was the realm of what if.

The door flew open with a bang, startling everyone in the room. Sitt's eyes opened for the first time in two hours as Umar burst into the room, followed by Fareem whom had greeted him at the keep entrance.

He paused a moment. The air was heavy, like a tomb. Blood filled his nostrils and his nose flared at it as he saw Sitt looking at him, eyes glittering from the bed. Altair looked up at him from where he sat, his step-mother's head beside him.

"Sitt!" Umar gasped. He had been told that she was very weak, but now, seeing her, he knew. She was dying. She had held on for him. He felt his heart already breaking as he came forward to her side, taking her hand in his own, kissing it as the cool fingers touched his unshaven cheek.

"Umar." She whispered, voice hoarse.

He had to be strong for her, for his children. "My love." He whispered.

"I'm so sorry." She whispered.

He shook his head. "Don't be." He murmured. "I love you. Stay. Please." He whispered, voice cracking, but it was already too late. The light was going from her eyes.

She smiled a little at him. "I…I love you…strength…Umar." She whispered as the breath left her.

She went limp, her hand slipping from his as her body relaxed, forever looking toward the window, beyond him at the first star that appeared.

Umar closed his eyes, tears dropping down his cheeks as he looked up at Al Mualim who had his hand to his breast, a sign of respect for the passing of an assassin. The signal was not lost on the mourning husband.

"Please…leave me." Umar said softly. "Take them away." He begged.

Al Mualim took a breath. "Umar…"

"Please…" Umar begged, voice cracking with his emotions.

Al Mualim nodded somberly. He looked at Karima and Fareem. Altair was caressing his mother's hair as his own tears fell. He made no sound, but he wept for the only mother he had ever known. Al Mualim himself bent, lifting the small toddler into his arms.

A'sha had been sleeping and gasped awake as the Master lifted her. "No! No! Mama! Baba!" She screamed, struggling to stay.

Al Mualim shook his head and walked out the door, the toddler screaming against his robes for her parents. Altair for his part clung to Fareem, his adopted uncle, weeping as the master assassin and his wife also left, their own tears to be shed.

As Karima pulled the door shut, she watched as Umar let out a cry of tormented pain as he lifted the body of his wife into his arms and sobbed in earnest for the loss he felt. Too proud to weep so before others, even those he saw as family, but now, the pain, agony, and sadness released like an overrun dam.

ZzZ

They buried Sitt, Princess of the Saracens, wife of Umar, Master Assassin, mother of A'sha, and step-mother of Altair, the following sundown.

Umar had again regained his composure, carrying her casket on his shoulders, as he had his first wife, the first pall bearer. To the other side was Al Mualim, a sign of respect for the passed lady to have the master bear her coffin. Fareem walked behind Umar, a pole on his own shoulders. All who bore the coffin, six men in all, all wore black assassin's garb, worn only for funerals of their own.

The casket was simple wood, draped with black cloth with golden Arabic verses of peace and hope stitched into it. The casket was light to bear for the six men who walked slowly from the fortress toward the crypt where assassins and their families were buried.

The path to the crypt was lined with assassins, all saluted the dead lady of a master assassin. Umar was moved by the saluted to his wife. She had been born and enemy, but died among them, thus was one of them.

The women and children remained in the fortress, watching from the high windows, dressed, as the coffin bearers were, in black of mourning. Due to the traditions of the Levant, women did not attend the funeral. It was said if the soul heard weeping at the funeral, it would stay and not come to paradise.

She was buried after Al Mualim spoke words. Umar, Al Mualim, and Fareem laid handfuls of dirt on the casket speaking words in Arabic before the tomb was sealed.

Umar turned and walked away, never to return to the place that housed both his wives. Despite his inner sadness he walked resolutely toward Al Mualim who had gone to see to Altair and A'sha. Umar walked into the hall and froze, seeing his children there. He closed his eyes. Seeing them there, almost undid him. How on earth would either of them forgive him for this? The loss of their mother.

He walked forward and knelt before A'sha. He looked at her tiny unsure face. He hugged her gently and kissed her cheek softly, fighting his tears. He then nodded to his son and embraced him as well. He then rose to his feet, wiping the singular tear that stung his eye as he looked at the pair he had sired. Could they ever forgive him for killing their mother? He was not sure he could ever forgive himself.

He turned away, even as he heard A'sha's tiny voice calling for him. He walked away from those gathered and went to his rooms to be alone.

Al Mualim stopped the girl from going after him. Altair stood, unsure what to do, but he lifted his sister into his arms to comfort her as well as himself, softly promising that he would always be there for her, no matter what.

ZzZ

Umar returned to his duties as a master assassin within two weeks, despite Al Mualim's initial reservations. However, he could see Umar needed a distraction.

He never again moved to hold his children ever again. A'sha, it hurt most. She often cried out for him when she saw him return from a mission. He would simply nod to her and his son before moving to make his report to Al Mualim.

Altair, in part understood. As much as an eight-year-old could understand such things of the world. He then took on the role of not only being big brother, but father as well. He saw to A'sha's needs, comforting her when she cried for her mother, loving her, and keeping her safe.

The siblings would survive this fully.


	4. A Life for a Life

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 4 – A Life for a Life

It has been two years since Sitt had died. Umar had become driven as a master assassin. However, though he was a good father, he had become distant from his two children. After six months he had moved them back into his rooms, but he did not hug them or show any affection other than guiding them as a master would his students.

He would wake at times to little A'sha curled up in his pallet beside him having woken in the night scared. He had made sure she slept before returning her to her pallet. How could he ever explain his failure to her? He had fathered the child that took her mother. He wanted to be the gentle loving father she deserved, but he listened to Al Mualim who told him that to be soft, even in a time of mourning, would make his children too dependent.

Altair, however, seemed to excel with the guiding of a master with a novice. Life was hard as an assassin and Umar wished to prepare his children for it. Altair was already proving to be a born assassin. He scaled the climbing areas and wrestled with other boys his age.

A'sha was small for her age, but she had a warrior heart. The little mouse would one day be fierce, but she seemed to be watching, waiting for her time, under the shadow of her elder brother and master assassin father.

Still, Umar would see in the blue eyes of his daughter, the wanting, the utter sadness when he would not lift her into his lap and hold her. It was too painful for him. This little five-year-old daughter he had sired looked so much like her mother, but was lithe, almost like a bird. At first, she had not thrived after her mother's death, becoming listless, not wishing to eat.

Umar had been not able to even deal with the idea that his daughter might join her mother and so he left her in the care of Al Mualim and Altair, taking a mission in Tyre that would take more than a month. But it was Kadar, the young boy who was born only a short time after her to Fareem and Karima Al-Sayf, who brought her about. He teased her and stole her favorite carved lamb her father had made.

Angry she chased him around the courtyard. Her angry cries had alerted her father and brother, who had just become a novice with Kadar's elder brother, Malik. Al Mualim, however, would not let them interfere, wanting to see what their little mouse would do. When the girl fought for breath, weakened from not eating, he had watched her, she had come closer and he had given her the lamb and they then sat in the shade of a tree and shared a snack of a sesame cake.

Umar took a breath as Al Mualim nodded to him. Dead was not yet calling for the young mouse. Altair then saw to her eating many small meals so her stomach would not rebel. From that day on, she gained weight and was again, though still smaller than any other her age, was full of life and her warrior spirit.

The assassins had always had a quarrel with Saladin. The Saracen leader had never seen eye to eye with Al Mualim, who refused to bend his knee to the Sultan. The rift was made deeper when Al Mualim sent word to Saladin about his sister's death. While Saladin blamed the assassins for her death, he knew she had died in childbirth, which had two possibilities, both were equal in his thoughts. First, the assassins had found her and held her hostage, raping her and the child being a result whose birthing killed her. Or second, she had been found, fell in love, married, and borne a child whose birth had taken her life. Strangely, whichever version was true, Al Mualim made no mention of the baby. Saladin was sure the infant had died with her.

Now Saladin had come to besiege the assassins and the town. The people of the town fought along side the assassins to drive the Saracens from the lands, pelting the invaders with rocks, boiling oil, and fire arrows.

On the third day, the assassins agreed, Saladin needed to have a message given to him to leave while he still had his life. Umar was chosen for the task. Losses were heavy on both sides. Al Mualim refused to give into the Sultan. His Order needed to remain.

Well after nightfall, when the camp slept, Umar made it into the camp. The spy had told him how to find Saladin's tent. The gaudy tent was a decoy. Saladin slept in a modest tent nearby, surrounded by sinters and chalk to have steps heard.

Umar moved into the tent as instructed, like a breath of wind. He walked through the tent, creeping to the sleeping area. He saw Saladin there. He paused, letting his eyes adjust to the dark of the sleeping area. Saladin, Sultan of Egypt and Syria, elder brother of his second wife whom he had banished for falling pregnant, lay here, now, totally at the master assassin's mercy.

And the man had no idea.

Umar stepped forward and lifted a dagger. He laid a note on the pillow beside the sleeping sultan and then pressed the dagger silently there to hold it. He then moved to leave. He moved the way he had come, however, he realized, too late he was trapped between two tents. Guards on one side, backs to him and a noble walking toward where he hid in the shadows.

He took a breath and moved behind the nobleman. He clapped a hand to his mouth and used his assassin's blade to stab him in the neck, killing him instantly before he had time to scream or act. Umar gently laid the nobleman down, propping him up so it looked like he was sitting down before he looked back at the guards who were still talking lowly and had not taken notice.

He then left the camp, scaling the walls of Masyaf as the first rays of the day were hitting the castle. It was cool and crisp, a fall morning. He moved through the sleepy halls of the fortress to Al Mualim's chambers to speak to the Mentor.

"Umar, welcome." The mentor said. He was already awake as was his practice. He wrapped his robes about himself to ward off the chill of the morning.

"Master." Umar said lowly, head bent.

"You've come to tell me of your mission?"

Umar nodded. There was blood on the master assassin's sleeve. Al Mualim noticed.

"Was our agent's information correct?"

"Yes, mentor. The tent where he slept was surrounded by sinter and chalk to hear my foot steps."

"Were you heard?"

"No. I was able to leave the letter and dagger as instructed."

"And then?"

"I crept from his tent."

"And…"

Umar took a breath. "I made it, but found myself trapped between guards and a man who came toward me."

"And that?" Al Mualim asked.

"I was forced to cut the man's throat to make good on my escape, master."

"A guard?"

"He wore the turban and vest of a nobleman."

"There was no other option?"

"I acted rashly, Master."

"But other than this, your mission was a success."

"Yes, master."

"Than we shall see what transpires." Al Mualim said as he sipped his tea.

There was a knock at his door. As assassin bowed to the master. "Master. An emissary has come to treat with you."

"Indeed." The Mentor said, rising to his feet.

What had transpired, the mentor noticed as he came to the battlements, was that Saladin had left the area, leaving his uncle, Shihab, to speak to the assassin leader. Al Mualim allowed himself to believe that his order would prevail. The message had worked. The letter told the sultan that should he continue his campaign against the assassins, the next letter would not be pinned to his pallet, but to his genitals.

Just being able to leave such a message had shown the sultan how vulnerable he really was. A lone assassin could outwit his decoys and guards stealing easily into his tent as he sleep and back out without his knowledge.

Or perhaps Saladin was fonder of his genitals than we was of pursuing a long and costly war of attrition against an enemy whose intentions rarely conflicted with his own. For he had left with a small honor guard so the assassin had told Al Mualim as he ascended to his tower to greet the emissary.

"His majesty Saladin accepts your offer of peace." The envoy called up. He stood beside the stallion of Shihab.

Al Mualim shared an amused glance with Umar who stood beside him. Other assassins had gathered to look down at the emissary. Al Mualim noted that Altair had come and had his sister on his hip, watching, safely back, but watching nonetheless. A'sha was blinking with sleep, but as always, was watching what transpired. So the little mouse had no doubt heard the call.

"We have his assurance that our sect can operate without further hostilities and no further interference in our activities?" Al Mualim's voice bombed in the cold still air.

"As long as interests allows, you have that assurance, yes." The Envoy said.

"Then I accept his Majesty's offer." Al Mualim called. "You may remove your men from Masyaf. Perhaps you would be good enough to repair our stockade before you leave?"

There was a ripple of amusement from the assassins watching.

Shihab looked up sharply at that. Even from where he stood, Al Mualim saw the flash of anger. Shihab leaned down from his stallion to the envoy. The man nodded and looked up at the tower once more.

"During the delivery of the message one of his majesty's most trusted generals was killed. His majesty demands reparations. The head of the culprit."

Al Mualim's smile finally fell and Umar's, beside him, tensed.

There was no sound as the all waited for Al Mualim's reply.

"You may tell the Sultan, I reject those terms." Al Mualim said.

Below, Shihab shrugged. A rider came forward, looking up at the tower. He pulled down his face scarf to reveal his flashing eyes as his own stallion pranced about some.

Saladin.

The honor guard had ridden off with a decoy.

"His Excellency wishes to inform you that unless you agree to these terms, a force will remain in Masyaf. Our patience is greater than your store of supplies. Would you have the peace agreement count for nothing? Would you allow your villagers and your men to starve?" The envoy pointed up to where Altair stood with A'sha. All heads turned a moment. "Would you have such children wither? All for the head of one assassin? His excellency dearly hopes not."

"I will go." Umar hissed to Al Mualim. "The mistake was mine. It is only right I pay for it."

Al Mualim ignored him. "I will not give up the life of one of my men."

"Then His Excellency regrets your decision and asks you to bear witness to a matter now in need of resolution. We have discovered the existence of a spy in our camp, and he must be executed."

Al Mualim's breath caught as the Saracens dragged the assassin agent forward. After him came an executioner's block, which two Nubians placed on the ground before Shihab and Saladin. The Spy's name was Ahmad. He had been beaten, badly. His head, battered, bruised, and bloodstained, lolled on his chest as he was manhandled to the block, dragged on his knees, and draped over it, throat up. The executioner stepped to the block, a Turk with a Scimitar. The Nubian's held the arms of the agent and he groaned. It was heard by the assassins above them.

"Let your man take his place and his life will be spared and the peace treaty honored." Called the envoy. "If not, he dies and the siege begins and your people starve."

Suddenly, Shihab lifted his head. "Do you want that on your conscience _Umar Ibn-La'Ahad_?"

As one, the assassins caught their breaths.

Ahmad had talked.

Under torture of course, but he had talked.

Al Mualim's shoulder's slumped. Umar was beside him whispering to him urgently. "Let me go. Please master."

The executioner planted his feet and raised the sword.

"Last chance, assassin." Shihab barked.

The blade shone in the early light.

"Master…" Umar begged. "Let me go."

Al Mualim took a breath and nodded.

"Stop!" Umar called. He moved to the edge of the tower. "I am Umar Ibn-La'Ahad. It is my life you should take."

"Very well!" Saladin called up. "Take your place at the block assassin."

Umar turned to his master who was watching him with respect and pity. "I ask one favor master."

"Name it."

"Look after Altair and A'sha. Take Altair as your novice. See A'sha well married and happy. She deserves the happiness I could never give her." He looked up at his children.

"Of course, Umar. Of course." Al Mualim said. He then put his fist to his chest and bowed slightly to his best master assassin.

Umar nodded, accepting the salute before he turned to make his way down.

"Father?"

He continued.

"Father?" Altair called.

He paused a moment but did not look back. He took a breath and closed his eyes against the tears that stung his eyes as the sentry closed the gate behind him.

Al Mualim saw Altair moving quickly through the ranks of assassins and villagers trying to reach his father, his sister, on his back like a spider monkey, whimpering. "Fareem!" He barked. "Take them away!"

Fareem blinked and then saw as well. This was not something children should see.

Umar made his way to them and finally reached where the small group was. He had paused, removing his weapons at the gateway. He then walked resolutely toward his fate, back straight, ready to face death as Saladin nodded.

Ahmad was lifted away and shoved toward the assassin's gate as the Nubians took hold of Umar who did not resist. Umar tried to give Ahmad a reassuring look, but Ahmad could not meet his gaze. He looked down and then was dragged into the gate, leaving Umar to his fate.

Saladin lifted a hand. "I know you." He said looking at the younger man as they pulled back his assassin hood.

Umar looked up at the man who was his former brother-in-law. "Saladin." He said dipping his head.

"You were with my sister in the royal gardens, speaking to her." Saladin said remembering. He had himself followed his sister when she had left. She had always been a free spirit.

"Yes. Long ago." Umar said softly.

"My sister died in childbirth. Who was the villain who raped her? I know she died here. She would not name the man who fathered the child. She was afraid."

Umar straightened. "She was a married woman among us and happy. Our child came too soon. Now you leave her child motherless and fatherless." He said pointing back toward the tower.

Saladin looked upward and saw the small girl being carried away. "Her daughter…" Saladin gasped a little.

He had not counted on the child that she had been pregnant with had survived. He blinked. The girl was crying. He could hear her. He closed his eyes. He had let this go too far to allow Umar to return to her. He had been so sent on vengeance that he had not taken into account that his sister could have been happy among these assassins. It was unthinkable to him. As his sister she would have lived well, married well, and been well. He had not counted on her doing it for love, not political alliance.

"You were the one." He said. "It was you, she was protecting when she would not name you. I exiled her. She came here and bore a daughter."

"She is beautiful like her." Umar said softly. "Blue eyes. Like the sea waters of Acre."

Saladin swallowed hard.

Umar continued. "She adopted my son. We were happy. The second child…came too soon. We could not stop the bleeding. A'sha always deserved better than I could give her." He then shook his head and moved dropping to his knees and exposing his throat. "Get on with it." He said looking upwards.

Saladin looked back. The girl was no longer in sight. "What is her name? You call her A'sha." He looked down at Umar. "Her name at least, assassin."

Umar closed his eyes. His last bit of defiance. "A'shadieeyah bint-Umar-La'Ahad." He said.

Saladin sighed and then nodded to the executioner. The blade lifted high and then came down.

Saladin closed eyes against the small mocking smile on the assassin's lips as his head dropped from his shoulders.

"Father?" Was the only voice heard before the Saracen's left leaving the headless body of the assassin to be collected by his brethren. A curtesy not often shown to an enemy, but Saladin knew his brother-in-law deserved that respect at least for dying with honor.

ZzZ

The assassins had collected and buried the body of Umar with full honors.

It was a week later when both A'sha and Altair were sleeping on their father's bed, letting the comforting scent of their father help them sleep. A'sha had been carried away before she could see the fall of the blade, but Altair had come and seen before Fareem had grabbed him and carried him away.

He had locked eyes with Saladin for a moment. Saladin had an apology in his gaze.

Strange.

There was a knock and the door opened to reveal Ahmad Sofian.

It was late. The children had been abed several hours.

He had a dagger at his side, which he held in one hand. He wore simple robes. He looked at the two children before him as he stepped into the room. Little A'sha was so young to have lost so much. Altair stood, holding his sister's hand.

"What is it?" Altair asked.

"I…I am so sorry." Ahmad said before he raised the dagger and cut his own throat. Blood flowed from the mouth at his neck and he sagged to his knees, looking at the pair. Blood drained to the floor as he fell forward.

A'sha cried out in shocked horror.

Altair watched as the blood pool expanded towards them before he lifted his sister in his arms and skirting the blood and the body, now limp with death, he ran for the master's rooms.

Al Mualim had opened the door as Altair shot into the rooms, holding his sister who was still too in shock to cry. Her eyes were wide with fear from the scent of blood and death.

"Altair? What is it that has you in such a way at this hour? A nightmare?"

Altair set his sister on the master's bed and fetched her a small drink of water as he began to explain to the master as he coaxed his tiny sibling to drink and calm.

Al Mualim gasped. "You were both there? A'sha witnessed it as well?"

"Yes, master." Altair said looking at him.

Al Mualim took a breath. "You two stay here this night. Sleep." He moved, pouring tea he added some powder to it. He then handed Altair his cup and nodded. The boy drank and then the master sat down beside the young girl who had suffered so much in her young life. "Drink this, little mouse. Sleep. Forget." He murmured as he caressed her hair as he pressed the cup to her small trembling lips.

She drank it down and he tucked them both into his bed.

When the drug took hold, he left them.

They remained there all night as the master saw to affairs. He did not return until mid-morning when Altair was waking. A'sha was still softly snoring in her drug induced slumber.

Just as well.

Al Mualim brought breakfast for them. He nodded to Altair. "You must never speak of this to anyone, Altair, especially not to Abbas."

Abbas was Ahmad's son.

The shame would break him.


	5. The Fast Learners

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 5 – The Fast Learners

Alfaar, they called her. The Mouse.

A'sha grew, watching the boys she had grown up with become novices and rise through the ranks of the order. Though she was not an assassin, nor was she taught, she had learned moves from observing. One of her skills was with a bow and arrow.

Al Mualim had seen this when she had gone hunting. She had found an eagle nest and found an abandoned chick there. She took it and raised it. It was not until one of the master assassins noticed it circling and returning to a window in the tower that it was known that the girl had a pet, and one sacred to the order. She used the great bird, who was almost as big as she was, to help her hunt. It was her friend and ally and it would often be on her shoulder or on the wall when she was about. It would sleep in the room with her. She called him Harbinger. Taming and keeping the bird impressed Al Mualim. He was even more impressed when she returned from the higher reaches with a ram for their meal, slung across her shoulders.

Though small, little Alfaar was strong. Able to lift far more than she should have been able, she could do tasks most women could not.

Altair had moved into the dormitory with the other boys allowing the girl to be alone in the rooms she had once shared with her parents. A'sha had learned skills from matrons such as embroidery, mending, basic cooking, and how to hunt.

However, one day, when the boys were shooting arrows at targets, Kadar, who was a new novice was having trouble shooting. Malik gently encouraged him, telling him their father Fareem was watching. That did little to boost the boy's confidence. Altair showed him how to hold the bow and as he made ready to fire his arrow, one shot by him, close enough to feel the draft from it on his cheek. He then blinked as it made a perfect bullseye.

Fareem unfolded his arms as did Al Mualim who had been speaking to him, startled.

Altair, Malik, and Kadar turned to see A'sha there in her dress holding a boy. She smiled and bowed. Altair and Malik laughed in amusement as the girl saw Kadar coming after her. She moved to the wall, using her small hands she slung her bow and began to climb.

Fareem watched as she was to the next floor in no time. That was no small feat for a girl only of ten with no training. "Master, it isn't my place, but I would train that little Mouse before she does herself or another injury."

"Train her as an assassin?"

"She has been watching her brothers all her life. And she has skills."

"I would not wish her to be in the face of combat unless truly necessarily." Al Mualim said.

"In this great war, Master, it is often necessary and having another with the skill of a blade would be an asset to the brotherhood."

"I had hoped to wed her to a foreign dignitary for an alliance."

"Do you think she would approve?"

"She has little say being both a woman in my care and under my jurisdiction."

"True Master, but she is a prize, few are worthy of her."

Al Mualim chuckled. "True enough."

"Perhaps train her as an assassin, but have her in a useful capacity, such as a healer, or some sort. Keeps her close to home and under your gaze, but allows her to learn."

"I will be just as harsh in my teachings. She will not gain any special treatment just because of her sex."

"I do not think she would expect it, Master."

Al Mualim nodded. "An assassin healer she will be then. After all, Yusuf is not getting any younger."

"Indeed." Fareem said ruefully.

ZzZ

And so it was that A'sha was brought into the Order. Her brother watched with an odd sense of pride. Though he was well into his training at fifteen, having his sister, whom he had partly raised join as the first female of the order, was no small thing.

Malik and Kadar offered their congratulations.

Abbas watched from the shadows.

ZzZ

Abbas had been a rather quiet brooding young man after his father's dead. He had been told that his father had left the order and had died shortly after. Altair was with him often and they were good friends. Altair often saw the master as a father figure rather than Umar had been. A'sha especially saw the Master as such, though his love was not that of a parent, but of a teacher, a harsh demanding teacher.

One day, when the boys were in the courtyard, Altair went to the brooding boy. They were both nearing their eighteenth birthdays, nearly men. Altair knew that Abbas grieved for his father.

He took a breath and sat beside him. "Abbas." He said softly. "I know how your father died."

"How?" Abbas asked looking up.

"He came to our rooms, after my father was executed. He begged for my sister and I to forgive him. He killed himself before us. He was a good man. I am sorry."

Abbas was quiet a moment and then his eyes narrowed. "You lie!" He growled.

Altair shook his head. "Why would I lie?"

"To make yourself feel better that your own father was taken from you. You make lies about my father because he gave your father's name under torture."

"It wasn't his fault. Anyone will talk if beaten enough." Altair said. "My father gave himself up so your father would be safe."

"And yet you tell me he took his own life, not that he fell into the canyons as the Master told me and others who saw his body there."

Altair shook his head. "I know the loss of a mother and father, Abbas. I have lost both my mothers to illness and a father was killed. We should stand as brothers." He said offering his hand.

Abbas looked at him and then shook his head. "You are not a brother to me." He growled.

ZzZ

Altair came to visit his sister.

She had not come to breakfast. It worried him. Since she was a female, she was allowed to keep her room that she could bar to keep everyone out should she desire until she was ready to come out to them. Al Mualim had stressed her privacy, something the boys of the order were never allowed to have as a luxury until they were full assassins.

He knocked and found the door locked. He blinked, but then used his key to open it.

Inside it was darkened. He walked to the bed, seeing his sister there.

He opened the curtains. The light so suddenly disturbed the eagle on the perch. He lifted a hand to the bird who lifted the sharp beak toward him. However, the head bent then in recognition of him. He scratched above the eye and the bird ruffled the feathers in pleasure making a soft noise.

He then turned to see his sister, curled in a ball, softly crying. "What is it?"

"I…I'm dying…"

"What?" He gasped. "What has happened?!"

She shook her head and looked away. He pulled her roughly back to him. At eighteen he was a lithe and powerful man, standing at six feet tall, he was taller than most. He knelt on the bed, holding her arms fast in his.

"A'sha!" He barked. "What is wrong?"

"I am bleeding." She whispered.

He blinked.

She moved beneath him, pushing the blanket back. "It hurts." She whispered, voice full of fear.

He looked down and gasped, feeling the blood drain from his face as he saw the blood on the sheets and her legs where her sleeping shift had been pulled up to her mid-thigh. He whispered an oath and then moved, gathering her and the sheet into his arms, he gathered the sheet about her as she looked at him startled.

He then moved quickly carrying her to the healer rooms. Yusuf looked up. "Ah, there is my pupil. So unlike her to be late. What is the matter?"

"She is bleeding…" Altair said softly.

Yusuf blinked. "Where are you injured my child?"

She pressed a hand to her abdomen. "It hurts…stabbing…the blood came last night."

Yusuf nodded, listening.

Altair the stepped back, allowing the healer to look her over.

Yusuf looked up at Altair. "She needs to good healing soak in the hot pools and then to rest." He lifted a small packet. "Let her drink this with some tea."

Altair nodded. "What is wrong?"

Yusuf shook his head. "Nothing is wrong." He said washing his hands in a wash basin. "She has just become a woman."

"What?" Altair blinked. "I do not bleed."

"Naturally not." Yusuf chuckled. "You do not have a womb."

Altair cocked his head looking at his sister as she rose to her feet to fetch water for herself. "What?"

Yusuf took a breath. "You know from your studies that when a man and woman lie together, a man's seed goes into a woman and a child is conceived correct."

Altair flushed a little. "Yes." He had also been told that his dreams where he woke, his sheets having splatters of semen were normal for his years.

"A woman bleeds with the full moon when there is no child within her." Yusuf said. "This is your sister's first bleeding. She has gone from girl to woman."

"But she is only thirteen."

"Many are younger. It causes pain, irritability, and at times illness as well as the flow of blood from them once a month."

"So, she is healthy." Altair said. "She just needs to wash the blood from her and then rest."

"Yes." Yusuf nodded.

Altair nodded. "Very well. Thank you."

He collected his sister and took her to the pools. They were hot pools, created for the gathering of hot water from hot springs in the area for bathing. Cold water was piped from the mountain streams.

She washed and he fetched her new clothing. On his way, he stopped and spoke to Al Mualim who nodded. So their little Alfaar had grown up. Too soon, but all things seems so to him now.

He took a breath. Soon she would need to marry and have children, children born into the order as she and her brother had been. Whom would be worthy enough? Any of her brothers? Any of the leaders of states in the region?

Al Mualim had a father's pride in her. Not just anyone would do for her. It had to be some sort of gain to the brotherhood and himself to allow it.

Love wasn't the game.

ZzZ

It was halfway through their eighteenth year when Abbas had been training with Altair in the yard. In the next circle, A'sha was dueling with Kadar. Kadar was larger and slower, but the Alfaar was small and fast. She was able to get the better of him twice. Malik watched from the side with the instructor Labib.

Kadar drank water as his brother leaned to him offering advice. The third time, Kadar gained the upper hand, but only for a moment, not taking into account how flexible she was. She used her legs to bend up, almost spiderlike, and pull him backward as she rolled pinning him.

Malik helped them both up, nodding to the girl. She smiled and moved off to attend to her chores. He watched her go. In her novice robes, modified for a woman, it was becoming clear she was becoming one. Her breasts were growing and her hips thickening.

Abbas stepped to Labib and asked to use real weapons rather than wooden. Not seeing any danger in doing so, Labib agreed, stepping back as the pair circled each other.

Abbas had spoken little to Altair since they had spoken of his father. It was now that he revealed why. Altair could see the anger and naked hate in the other's eyes as he charged him.

Shocked, Altair was on the defensive. The boys dueled as Labib watched, still not seeing the danger until Abbas had Altair pinned, knife to Altair's throat, he was weeping in rage. "You lied! Tell them!"

"What?" Altair was stunned.

"Abbas!" Al Mualim barked from above.

Everything else had stopped as the others saw the life and death struggle. Then Labib say it too, jumping into the ring. He lifted his hands. "He will put you into the cells for this Abbas. Let him go!"

"Not until he tells you he lied! Lied about my father!"

"Abbas! Release him!" Al Mualim's voice cracked like a whip.

"No!"

"Fine! I lied!" Altair barked up at him.

Abbas was shaking, but he stepped back. It was then assassins grabbed him and pressed him toward the dungeons. Altair was also grabbed and taken to a different cell.

For a month, the pair were given bread and water twice a day and given time to reflect. Altair focused on meditation and reading books. Abbas focused his rage inward. Abbas, whose crime was judged to be more severe, attacking a fellow brother without cause, was held back a year for further training on the tenants of the creed while Altair became a full assassin of the order.

Abbas had spat at Altair's feet and left him. Altair had sneered, his first true sign of arrogance. However, A'sha embraced him and continued to have her almost godlike admiration for her elder brother.

A'sha herself, now thirteen, was learning the healing arts. She had been sent to Damascus several times to learn from the Saracen's easily blending into their ranks being half Syrian half Saracen herself. She learned the newest technics for amputations, healing wounds, and bringing down fevers. She even learned how to try to keep leprosy at bay.

Nearing her fourteenth birthday, she was able to set and mend broken bones, heal wounds and burns, see to fevers, and make teas to help with pregnancy or rid a woman of one if desired. She even delivered two villager women's children.

Still she hunted, bringing fresh meat whenever she hunted with her great eagle.

There was no denying her skills.


	6. Mixed Hatreds

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 6 – Mixed Hatreds

A'sha was on her second lone mission. She was in Jerusalem, the city of three faiths. Being Muslim looking and wearing a veil allowed her to pass through the town unmolested. No one took notice of the small woman wearing non-descript clothing. Though she wore a female version of the male assassin's garb, her veil was an asset. She had started to wear it after her second monthly bleeding as was customary for the area.

Though assassins did not truly adhere to any faith because the Creed superseded it. Nothing is true, everything is permitted.

She was still a low graded assassin, but at times, her skills at being unseen were needed for information gathering. The Rafiq found her calm nature to be of use to him. She listened and blended seamlessly into the background, so much that even he, another assassin, at times would forget she was in the room.

A'sha was growing into womanhood. Her body had grown a couple inches, her hair thickened, and her breasts grew. The other assassins had begun to notice this, much to her brother's chagrin. However, her ability to win duels against many had given them pause. Cool and calculating, she would wait for the others to make the first move.

Kadar had never managed to pin her. Altair could, because of his size, but even he had problems cornering her. His wins had come from wearing her down. Her stamina was not that of the young adult men. Malik had lost two bouts to her. Abbas had lost and had been sour about it, kicking dust into her face for it, which cost him two meals for not taking defeat with grace.

Now she stood listening to Templars in the street, calling for peace. A strange thing for them to preach. Still, she listened. After she moved to leave the square, back the way she had come, but then found herself surrounded by two Templar guards.

Not permission to kill, she was forced to come with them. They bound her hands before her and walked with her to their headquarters. It was strange to see them there, openly, given Saladin's orders, but perhaps the sultan's men had greater concerns than crusaders who were being peaceful in the town.

She walked up the stairs with them behind her. She was shone into a room where there was food. She felt her stomach shift a little. She had not eaten all day and she was hungry. The food smelled delicious.

A man stepped forward. He was bald, face and head marred with scars. "Ah. Welcome honored guest of the assassins." He said in English, his voice was heavily accented. French, she thought as she stood watching him.

He looked down and saw she was bound. He turned to his lieutenant and slapped him hard. "Why is she bound?" He demanded. "She is not threat to us. I only wish to speak to her." He turned to the girl. He drew his knife and held it before him.

She blinked and then understood. She lifted her arms, cutting the ropes as he stood still. "Apologies, my dear." He nodded to the food. "Come, you must be starving."

She remained where she was.

He laughed. "Do you think I would poison you? I have much easier means to deal with you. Come." He said pouring wine and lifting it to his lips after making a mock salute. "Salut." He said and drank.

She then stepped closer and sighed, lifting her hand she lowered her veil.

"The assassins breed a very beautiful woman in the hills." He said looking at her appreciatively as she sat down.

She smiled. "Indeed."

He lifted a hand to her face, startling her. She froze watching as he looked at her. "Water. Your eyes are the color of a lake in my country." He said.

"You are French?"

"Oui." He then wiped his mouth. "Forgive me. Where are my manners." He rose to his feet and bowed a little. "I am the Marquis Robert de Sable, Lord of the Knights Templar."

"A'shadieeyah bint-Umar-La'Ahad." She said, her Arabic tongue swirling over the tricky vowels easily.

He blinked. "Such a long name for one so young." He poured a glass of wine for her, which she took as well as an orange. "Tell me, are you happy?"

"Yes." She said peeling the orange expertly and then pulling apart the segments with ease.

"A woman in your position, the only woman, with so many men, who likely treat you less than you deserve."

"My brothers know my capabilities."

He nodded watching her.

They spoke into the night and then he showed her to a room. It had no windows, but the bed looked comfortable. She blew out the candle and saw the light under the door. There were a pair of shadows as well.

Boots.

So not a guest, but a prisoner.

She shook her head and moved to the bed, drawing her knife from its sheath at her thigh and putting it under the pillow as she laid down.

ZzZ

Two days later, Altair arrived in Jerusalem. He was coming to assist his novice sister with her first kill order. The first kill was always rough and being a girl, Al Mualim feared it could scar her. So, he had asked Altair, her brother in arms as well as blood, to travel to help her through it.

He arrived at the Bureau.

"Safety and peace be upon you brother." He greeted the Rafiq.

"Altair." The man said. "Have you seen A'sha?"

"No. She was supposed to be here when I arrived according to Al Mualim."

"Strange. Very Strange indeed."

"Why? Where is she?"

"My men said she was taken to the Templar headquarters near the Church of the Holy Sepulcher."

"Why would she go there?"

"I do not know, but she has not returned."

"Why do they want her?" Altair blinked. "She isn't an assassin, just a novice."

"Find her Altair. Bring her safely home. We can deal with her mission when she is back among her brothers."

Altair nodded.

ZzZ

He made his way to the Templar headquarters.

He moved about, trying to gain information from listening to the guards. None were speaking about her. He moved further in and then two were speaking.

"That girl is a wildcat. Did you see the scratches she left on the Master?"

"Yes. She will no doubt pay for that, but he seems to like playing cat and mouse for now."

"I wonder how long she will last."

"He said he would stop hitting her when she dropped to the floor and would not get up again."

"And…"

"She was still standing when I left."

"Brave girl. I have to give her that."

"Brave or stupid."

A cry caused the pair and Altair look up.

Altair moved quickly in the shadows, but then something shifted under his feet. He cursed himself for not being more careful as he slid down a rock face onto stone. He blinked looking about. He was in a cell.

Clever.

He blinked as he saw light coming toward him. He saw men come toward him.

He knew the man before him. Robert De Sable, Templar master.

"Where is my sister?" Altair growled.

"Sister?" That creature is your sister. You poor man…"

"Let her go. If you have a quarrel with the assassins, deal with me."

Robert chuckled. "I will take you to her." He nodded to his men to take hold of Altair. The assassin gasped, but did not fight, for his sister's sake. He allowed them to take him.

He was led up some stairs and then into a darkened room. He was pressed to his knees. His arms were clapped in irons to the floor, keeping him in the position.

Robert began to light sconces around the room. "Assassin. Welcome." He said. "How firmly are you in your creed?"

"What do you mean?"

"We too desire peace in the land. Join me. Help me rid the blight from the land."

"Never. I have a sworn oath to my brothers." Altair said.

"Indeed. A shame." He said moving toward the bed. He reached down, lifting the form that had been upon it. He dragged her, almost like a rag doll before Altair and forced her painfully to her knees. She gasped and then found herself face to face with her brother.

"Altair!" She gasped, face bloody, an eye almost swollen shut, blood had seeped through her clothing. The back of her garb was open. As she shifted he saw the linear cuts made by a whip.

"Let her go! Have you no honor?" Altair growled. "Fight me."

The two men who were there, hit him, causing him to grunt.

De Sable smiled. "Join me and I will let her go free."

The girl's good eye looked up at the Frenchman and then back at her brother. "Tell him to rot in hell brother!" She growled.

De Sable backhanded her sharply. She took the blow with a grunt, new blood spurting from her nose.

Altair gasped trying to reach for her, to put her behind him, to guard her, but he could not. She was fourteen. Only fourteen. She well knew the risks, but she was still a child and had much to learn about the ways of the order.

She took a breath and sat back up. She looked back at de Sable as she wiped the blood on her sleeve. "We will never join you." She hissed.

He looked at Altair who locked eyes with his sister. He growled and fisted the thick hair of A'sha and yanked her bodily backwards toward the bed.

"You leave me little choice, my dear." He said.

Too late Altair realized de Sable's intention. He cried out, struggling against his bonds. The guards gagged him as she struggled.

De Sable lifted A'sha's dead weight body up to the bed. Draping her legs over the edge he ripped the garb in two, revealing her young supple body to him. Though covered in bruises from his beating, she was still, at his mercy. He laid a dagger to her throat, looking down at her as he lifted his own garb out of his way, watching the fear and realization come into her gaze.

He fed on it. The fear. The total control he had over as another person.

He used his free hand to spread her legs apart. She tried to move away, the blade nicked her neck. He smiled grimly as he pressed into her, feeling the resistance of her maidenhead. She gasped in pain having no time to adjust to him as he moved in her, leaning over her as he rutted in her, spurred on by the fact he had taken her virginity.

No man would want her now. In the Muslim culture, she could be stoned for allowing a man to penetrate her before marriage. De Sable knew this. He had ruined this girl and he relished it.

She shut her eyes against the pain, silent tears falling down her cheeks.

Altair watched in horror as his sister was raped before him. He had vainly struggled, but then dropped defeated, head bowed, unable to watch anymore, but still hearing de Sable's grunts as he neared his climax and the soft whimpers of his sister, who was trying to be so strong, but she was only a girl.

Robert de Sable would die by Altair's hand. He swore it. For the shame he brought upon his sister and his own failings as a brother to protect her.

ZzZ

De Sable continued to flog or rape his sister, trying to break either of them, and failing. Four more times, de Sable raped the girl. A'sha had withdrawn into herself, accepting her fate after saying only to her brother. "Strength Altair." When he was asked again to join the Templars. Again, he refused and again his sister was whipped, that time before him, close enough that when the cat lifted, he was flecked with blood spatter from her wounds.

He looked at her as she met his gaze, body flexing in pain, despite her efforts not to. His gaze told her he was sorry and he would see her through this. Her gaze was becoming emptier. He knew part of her was dying this day. A piece of her. A piece she could never reclaim.

Robert de Sable then decided he had had enough. He nodded to his men. They came to the weeping Altair, pulling him straighter and hit him in the temple with the butt of a sword, rendering him unconscious.

When Altair came to, he found himself in an alleyway. He gasped, not liking the smell much, but then he lifted himself up and saw A'sha was near him. He gasped, crawling to her side. She was pale. He feared she was dead and it would all be his fault. His sweet sister, murdered because of his pride.

He touched her cheek and she gasped and a shiver went through her body. "A'sha."

"Don't hurt me anymore. Please…I will make him join you…please…"

Altair's heart broke. He gathered her to him as fresh hot tears stung his cheeks. "A'sha. I'm so sorry!" He whispered against her shoulder. She was barely clothed. She had blood all over her body.

She opened her good eye. "Altair…" she whispered. "Am I dreaming?" She asked.

"No…no sweetheart. I have you. Stay with me. I am going to take you home."

"But the target…"

"Hush now." He murmured gathering her up.

She cried out in pain and he jumped back startled. He then leaned her forward against him, and saw the flog marks, some scored deep enough to show bone.

What had he done?!

He took a breath looking about. He looked at her. "A'sha. Listen. I need you too hold onto my back. Like you did when you were small. Can you do that?"

She took a breath and nodded. He rose to his feet and pulled her with him. She had lost a lot of blood. He could tell by how she faltered. She dropped against his back as he knelt down, wrapping her arms about his neck. He wrapped her legs about his hips, feeling her naked flesh, his hand touching her thigh that was sticky with blood.

He then stood. He moved to the edge of the alley. She needed warmth, clothing, and treatment for her hurts, let alone the mental anguish she had to be feeling.

She pressed her head to the back of his neck. "Hurry Altair. I cannot hold for long."

"Stay with me sister." He murmured as he then saw his aim. A woman had a dress and a thin blanket on a line. How they moved, they were dry. He moved, collecting both. Quickly he set his sister down and dressed her in the dress, that was too big for her and wrapped the blanket about her not shivering body.

He pulled her onto his back once more. "We are nearly to the Bureau. I promise you can rest there."

"Vinegar." She whispered.

"What?" He asked pausing.

"For…my back."

"That will hurt you more." He said, tasting bile at the thought of causing her anymore pain.

"Will help." She whispered weakly.

He felt her grip slipping. He pausing in his movements to bring her into his arms. "I love you." He murmured to her as he held her close, trying to warm her. She was so small in his arms, like the child she was.

He was at the top of the Bureau when her head lolled back. "A'sha!" He gasped, dropping to his knee. He touched her throat. She lived, barely. The beat was weak and her skin chilled. She was dying.

Robert de Sable would pay.

He put her over his shoulder as he climbed down the ladder into the Bureau. At the bottom, he looked about. "I need help!" He called.

The Rafiq appeared with two others. "What has happened?" He asked, seeing Altair holding his sister. Even in the dim light, the Rafiq could see trouble.

"Robert de Sable." Altair said. "Where can we let my sister rest and heal?"

"This way." The Rafiq led the way to the medical room. Altair laid his sister down and then laid her on her stomach. He ripped the dress, revealing the terrible marks. The Rafiq looked at the marks and then nodded grimly. "I need vinegar, tea leaves, warmed water, the coldest water you can find, many bandages, and paper."

Altair dropped beside the girl, holding her hand. "I'm here, sister."

The Rafiq gathered his items and then set to work.

It was just as well that she was unconscious.

ZzZ

She had a fever for two days and did not wake. Altair feared for her and refused to leave her side. She woke near dawn on the third day, moving with a violent scream, backing away from him and everyone.

The Rafiq came and stopped Altair from going and grabbing her to hug her.

"Victims of such violence often cannot stand to be touched." He said softly to Altair. "Talk to her like you would a frightened mare."

Altair nodded, squatting down, hands outstretched. "A'sha. It's me, Altair. Your brother."

The Rafiq also lowered himself. "We mean you no harm, novice." He said gently. "I know you do not wish to be touched, but will you allow me to see to your back?"

She took a breath and then nodded, moving away from the wall, and allowing him to treat the wounds. She hissed in pain, but held as still as she could. Altair moved before her. "A'sha, sweetheart. Speak to me."

"I want to go home, brother." She whispered.

He nodded. "In a day. When you can ride."

ZzZ

Altair found a horse. He mounted and then had his sister lifted before him. She winced in pain as the saddle hit her sensitive lower region, but then relaxed. Altair reached around her for the reins and she gasped, shifting a little.

"Ease, sweetheart." He murmured. "I just need the reins."

She took a breath and nodded. "I'm sorry." She whispered.

He shook his head, lifting a hand to her chin. He made her look at him. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

She looked down.

ZzZ

The trip to Masyaf was slower than he expected due to riding double. They arrived and he dismounted and wrapped a protective arm about her as he led her to her rooms, putting himself bodily between any who tried to ask her questions.

They made it to her rooms. He had her lay down on her stomach and went to find the healer and Al Mualim.

The healer came. One look told him all he needed to know.

Al Mualim came and gasped seeing her so abused.

The healer gave her a drink that made her bleed badly, but was short lived. The second drink eased the bleeding and had her sleep.

Al Mualim saw Altair go and lean against the wall, facing the pallet, watching her, reassuring himself that she lived. "What happened to her?"

"She was captured by Robert de Sable." Altair said, feeling tears sting his eyes. "I came to find her and found myself captured also. When I refused to join his Templars, he…he…" He closed his eyes against the memory.

"He forced her to bodily submit to him…and forced you to watch."

"He beat her badly master."

Al Mualim walked to the girl, who now slept in a drug induced sleep to help her heal. He lifted the sheet and closed his eyes at the mess that was what remained of her back. "She will carry the scars of this for the rest of her life. Inside and out."

"It wasn't her sin, master. Can we not help her?"

"We will do all we can, but if her will is broken, she will die."

"But she is so strong. Stronger than I am. She took it all. It would have broken me."

"He meant to break you by making you watch." Al Mualim looked down. "Do not sully her further by allowing him to win."

Altair nodded. "Will she heal master."

"In time." Al Mualim said.

Altair nodded. He sighed taking her hand.


	7. Traitors Within

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 7 – Traitors Within

Five years past.

It was 1189, a time of glory for the assassins of Masyaf.

A'sha, did not fully retreat into herself as the master and her brother feared. She had become almost emotionless, cold, not speaking much, but had focused on her studies. She had not only become an expert healer and assassin, but she had learned to create deadly poisons. Some were quick, death nearly instant. Others were designed to be slower, sapping the life from someone, weakening them to the point of knowing they were powerless. Something she took a strange glee in.

Along with the poisons she created, she created methods to counter act poisons. Few of hers were recoverable, but with venomous snakes in the region that had toxic bites, A'sha also knew how to create anti-venom, allowing for several in Masyaf to live who normally would not.

The villagers both feared and respected her as they did all the assassins, but A'sha they had seen work her magics. They thought her a sorceress or a succubus of some kind. However, she was none of these things. Just a young women reclaiming her own after having her very childhood and core taken from her.

She had sworn vengeance as had her brother on Robert De Sable. One day, the man would pay for what he did to her and how he had ruined her. And yet, in some respects, she was grateful. From his attack and surviving it, she had come to realize she needed no one to help her survive. What did not kill you only made you stronger, broken bones healed stronger, and A'sha had many strong bones.

Altair had remained close. He knew she would be alright, the day she crawled onto his pallet and let him hold her. They had spoken well into the night. She forgave him for not helping and he wept that he had not lost his sister.

Now, at eighteen, though clothed the only mark upon her from de Sable was part of her ear removed and a small scar on her chin, her back was a mass of scars, marring her once beautiful form. Knowing no man would have her, she became the quiet Alfaar that roared.

Death was often in her wake as a full assassin in the order, but no one remembered even seeing her, even her own order brothers. She was a nameless, faceless shadow, as the creed and the tenants demanded.

In a strange act of defiance to what had happened to her, she had small tattoos put upon her face flesh. These designs were Aramaic in origin, stylized into patterns. A small set below her eyes, a set on her brow, and another on her chin, hiding the scar. She wore kohl on her eyes, giving her a beautiful almost exotic appearance, something that helped on assassinations where she had to use her female body to lure a victim. Something she was very good at. Al Mualim it was her way to reclaim the power she had lost when she had been so brutally raped.

Altair, now twenty-four, was also an assassin, one grade below the master level. He was skilled, but had also grown into an interesting arrogance. However, a favorite of Al Mualim, he was often a touch justified. While A'sha was a honed weapon, using her hatred and self-loathing to good use, she was the weapon that Al Mualim used for his special targets, ones he knew guile and stealth would not help alone.

As she became older, she remained driven, but was becoming fully a woman, small, but hauntingly beautiful to look at. She had become more open, allowing others, such as Malik, Kadar, and another Haras.

Haras seemed to be the most active in trying to court her. She naturally had little want of romance, though she seemed to like the attentions. She was too busy to have such things. Still, Kadar, also seemed to wish to woo her, but was more worried about Altair. Malik had been the most reserved, but he too enjoyed his time with her. He was not so worried about Altair as she herself acting rashly. He had been partnered on a mission with her. He had come into the target's room, watched her rising from the sleeping pallet, methodically dressing, the dead man naked, eyes wide with surprise at being killed as he tried to bed her.

A mouse no more, but a spider. A small creature that hid in the shadows with death in her wake. Malik respected her and had seen first hand her ability. The man had not bedded her, though he thought he would. It was a game only a female assassin could play. She embodied the Creed and so had the respect of her brothers of the Order.

Altair, her true brother, though she had forgiven him, always felt he could never do right by her, but he watched as men tried to woo her. At times she would reject them, but other times, she would accept their gifts. He would watch, worried about her being hurt by any one of them. He would kill any who tried to harm her again.

Haras was walking with her on the battlements.

Altair had been sent on a mission to Acre, leaving her to tend to the fortress. She had delivered a child to a baker and his wife and now was walking with the assassin brother as a way to settle herself. Childbirth was a stressful time, but though A'sha's hands took lives, she was gentle and knew how to bring children with less pain to the mother and a lower mortality rate than any other midwife in the Levant.

She heard something and turned to see templars coming into the village. She turned to run to the bell to raise the alarm, but Haras grabbed her arm. Startled, she turned and he knocked his sword hilt into her head, causing her to crumple to her feet.

He smiled, looking back as the Templars overran the villagers. He moved, lifting the girl, he moved to the courtyard as his Templar allies swarmed in, unchecked due to no alarm being raised. However, the Assassins fought back, taking the fight into the village, though the fortress was taken.

Haras smiled as two of the men brought Al Mualim out to the courtyard and held him as others rounded up the defeated Assassins, tying them to training posts. A'sha herself was bound and tied to a post near the Master. She was slowly coming about as the master struggled to be free.

"What have you done?" Al Mualim asked.

"I have done my purpose mentor." Haras smiled. "The Templars will take this fortress and I will have my prize." He said looking at A'sha who blinked, trying to clear the fog in her head.

Al Mualim looked back. "You are a fool. She will never have you and you will never have this place. Nor leave it."

"Silence old man." Haras growled.

ZzZ

Altair was returning from Acre when he heard the distinct clash of steel against steel as it echoed in the canyon. He rode forward and then came upon the scene of a brother fighting to Templars. The man was trapped and his foot was caught, but as he ducked a killing blow, Altair rode in killing one with his sword.

He dismounted and saw the second moving to try to escape. He smiled and threw one of his throwing knives, killing him.

Altair took a breath and then walked to the brother of his order. "Are you hurt?" He asked.

"Broken foot." The man said. "A few cuts."

Altair nodded, pulling him to his feet. He then wrapped his arm about his shoulder to help him to a bench as he limped.

"What is your name brother?" The assassin asked.

"Altair, son of Umar." Altair said, with a measure of pride as he helped the other sit.

"Ah, Umar. Ah yes. He was a fine man who lived as he died. With honor."

Altair nodded, watching the brother.

"Altair!" Abbas said running up to him, sword bloodied. "We have been betrayed."

Altair turned to him. "What?"

"The enemy has overrun the castle." Abbas said gesturing behind him.

Altair turned back to the other assassin. "You will live." He said patting his shoulder a moment before turning back to Abbas. "What of Al Mualim? What of my sister? Where are they?" He asked looking back, knowing his sister was within the walls. As a woman and an assassin, she would also be a target. Those who knew of her knew what an asset she was, but also how dangerous she was. Cold, calculating, biding her time…

"They were inside when the crusaders broke through." Abbas spread his hands. "There is nothing we can do for him now." He moved quickly behind Altair. "Altair. We must fall back."

Altair turned to him. "When I close the castle gate, flank the crusaders in the village and drive them into the canyon." He moved to go to the fortress above them.

Abbas shook his head. "You do not stand a chance."

Altair turned back. "Abbas. No mistakes." He said lowly.

Abbas grunted and then moved to do as Altair said. Though he was loathed to admit it, Altair did outrank him and the suicide mission deserved some mark of respect.

Altair worked his way through the village, killing crusader enemies and freeing villagers. At last he reached the gate of the fortress and paused on the embankment as Haras greeted him.

"One more step and your mentor dies." Haras warned. He had changed from his assassin robes into a crusader tabard and mail.

Altair looked up and saw Al Mualim struggling against his captors. His gaze dropped to Haras again. "You will not leave this place alive traitor."

"No, you misunderstand." Haras said. "I am no traitor." He put his helm on. "For I cannot betray those I never truly loved."

The gate began to drop and Altair shook his head. "Then you are doubly wretched for you have been living a lie."

Haras laughed and walked back into the courtyard and lifted a crossbow. "So, old man." He said looking at Al Mualim. "Will you do the honors and marry us?" He asked nodding to the bound, struggling A'sha who was now fully alert.

"I will never marry you." She hissed.

Al Mualim was silent though he winced as Haras shot a bolt into a captured assassin's throat.

Haras looked up at them. "A'sha, my love, you have always played hard to get, come little mouse. Wed me and save your brothers." He said tauntingly as he loaded another bolt.

"Why me? You know I will just kill you in your sleep."

"I have dreamt of a night with you. It must be paradise." Haras countered. "You would never kill a brother."

"You are no brother to me." She hissed.

Altair had made his way to the battlements. His blood was boiling as he listened to the conversation below, but he had to keep his mind clear. He made it to a wooden beam and watched as a second assassin died.

A'sha cried out. "You dog! Release me! Fight me fair. If you beat me in a duel I will marry you, but win me with honor, not death."

Haras turned back to her and laughed. "You best me two of three times. What would you get if you win, my sweet?"

"Your head." She hissed.

He walked to her, pushing her hood back and looking at her fully in the light. "It is a pity your beauty is soured by your tongue." He smiled as she glared at him, but he removed his helm and smiled at her. He then bent and kissed her, hard, bruising. She was started and then tried to bite him, struggling.

He pulled back laughing. "You will be a wild cat when I bed you. I am sure I will enjoy having you." He said turning back.

Altair jumped, using his hidden blade and driving it into the back of the traitor.

A'sha gasped, startled. She had no idea her brother had returned as he crouched over the body rolling it to face him.

The other crusaders were so startled that one let go of Al Mualim. The old man then freed himself of the other, turning to face them as he drew his knife.

They fled.

Al Mualim walked to A'sha and freed her. "Are you hurt my little mouse?" He asked.

She shook her head. She had bruises on her, but was otherwise well enough. At a nod from the master she went to free the others and check on those shot by bolts to see if they lived or were indeed dead.

Altair sheathed his blade and looked at Haras.

"You put too much faith in the hearts of men, Altair. Templars know the truth. Humans are weak, base, and petty."

"No." Altair said. "Our Creed is evidence to the contrary."

"Perhaps I am not wise enough to understand, but I suspect the opposite. I am too wise to believe such rubbish" Haras said and died.

Altair stood from the body and looked up as A'sha came to him. He hugged her to his side, kissing her brow. "Are you hurt sister?"

She shook her head. "No, thanks to you." She said softly. No matter how old she was, she always admired her elder brother. Skilled in her own right, and having his admiration for her, she still would always see him as the elder brother who could do no wrong, keeping her safe, and loving her always.

Al Mualim stepped to them. "A'sha, my child. There are many who need your skills. Can you see to them?" He asked.

She nodded, moving to do as he asked, a wraith as the gate to the castle once more lifted.

Al Mualim and Altair watched her go. The master looked at Altair. "You offered him a chance to salvage his dignity? Why?"

"No man should pass from this life to the next without knowing some kindness." Altair said.

"But he shunned your graces."

"As was his right."

"He meant to make your sister his whore and yet you treated him with respect."

"Why did he wish to marry her master?"

"Through her, her children give a gateway into the order. A birthright. Something he did not have."

"My sister would have shown him the error of that, given time, but though he was an enemy, mocking my sister and her good name, he deserved respect as do all we face. To make them less, makes us the villains not them."

Al Mualim took a breath. "Altair, I have watched you grow from a boy to a man in so such a short time, it fills me with as much sadness as pride. You fit your father's shoes as though they were tailored to your feet."

Altair took a breath. "I did not know him well as a father. He was an assassin above all."

"You too were born into this order. Do you regret it?"

"How can I regret the life I have ever known?" Altair asked looking at the Mentor.

"I am sure your sister does not also. She is a indominable spirit. But you both may in time. It will be up to you both in time to choose the path you prefer." Al Mualim lifted a hand to his shoulder. "Come my boy, ready your blade. This battle is not yet won."

ZzZ

A'sha and Yusuf had seen to the wounded.

Altair came to see her. She had three assassins and Yusuf with her holding down a man on a table. Blood and sawdust was on the floor.

"No, no. Please!" The man begged.

"If I do not take your foot, your foot will rot, and you will die." A'sha told him calmly.

The man struggled harder as she put a tourniquet on it. Altair nodded and stepped forward pushing down the man's leg, holding it still as she brandished a saw. The man bit down on a wooden handle as she sawed quickly through the foot.

She was so cold and methodical, her brother watched her as she worked. She then moved sowing the stump as well as she could. The blood loss was minimal as she then wrapped it with poultices and linen.

She stepped back and nodded to one of the men who took a breath. The man on the table had passed out. His younger brother bowed his head to her. "My thanks, A'sha."

She nodded to him. "The next two days are critical. If a fever does not take him. He will live." She said.

He nodded embracing her, thankful for what she had done. She stiffened at the contact, spreading her bloody hands. He stepped back and went to his brother's head.

Altair watched her go to a different room to wash the blood from herself and remove the blood-stained apron she wore. She dipped her arm in a basin to her elbow, washing the blood from her limb, watching it swirl into the cool water.

"Do you think he will live?" Altair asked.

She looked up at him. "Yes." She said. "He will never be able to do our work, however. To some that is a worse sentence."

He nodded and sat down. "You are so strong. How do you manage?" He asked her.

She walked to him and smiled, wrapping her arms about his shoulders. "So are you brother." She murmured.

She stepped away and he took her hand in his, four fingers holding four fingers, a mark of their order, the sacrifice for carrying a hidden blade, the ring finger of the left hand missing. "I love you sister." He murmured.

"I know." She smiled a little. "I love you too, brother." She said.

He made his way to their rooms. Though no longer children, he often stayed with her, their mutual presences calming them both, though the rooms were her own.

She came sometime later, walking to the pallet and almost instantly falling asleep upon it. He smiled looking up from his journal. He walked about, blowing out candles and then lying beside her, on his back, an arm behind his head, watching the stars out the window.

Zzz

The next morning, all the assassins gathering in the courtyard. The dead had been collected and were all buried. It was the way of the Levant. Bodies were buried within a day of death or as soon as possible.

Al Mualim addressed the crowd with Altair beside him. "We were betrayed yesterday and showed the crusaders that we are of stronger mettle than they had thought. They were defeated, however, one among you, Altair, was able to come to the castle and single handedly rescued not only myself, but several of his brothers, and his own sister held captive. This is the mark of a well-trained assassin, only taking live when necessary and keeping to the Creed. For this action, Altair, I name you the rank of Master Assassin."

Altair was startled. He was the youngest to ever have such a rank bestowed upon him at twenty-four. His sister cheered from the crowd, running to his side to embrace him. Others cheered as well and offered their congratulations as Altair walked to them, an arm about the shoulders of his beloved sibling.

Abbas came and looked at Altair coldly and then spat at his feet before walking away from the group. A'sha moved to follow, but Altair caught her and shook his head.

The man's fury was not worth it to them.


	8. The Treasure in Solomon's Temple

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 8 – The Treasure of Solomon's Temple

Altair had been sent to Tyre to recover a Chalice artifact from the Templars. It took several months before he learned that the Chalice was actually a woman, Adha, whom was the first woman he loved. When he failed to keep her safe from harm, as he had his sister, hatred bloomed within him.

When he again found her, he found her body, broken, lifeless. His sister with him, he hunted down those responsible for her death, systematically and coldly, but in the end, the deaths brought him no joy or relief from his hatred of grief.

He stood on the seawall of Acre, pondering, as he held her necklace in his hand, watching the waves below. His sister had come to him, speaking to him about how love both was a strength and a weakness. He agreed with her. He was never sure he would love again as he tossed her necklace into the sea, as far as he could.

His sister told him she hoped he would find love again. She knew he had had his first romantic encounter several years ago, but it was mostly a boyhood dare to bed a woman. Adha had been different. Not a quick roll in the sheets, but he loved her and wanted her to be at his side. To have that taken, he started to feel the same empty ache he was sure Umar had felt not only once, but twice.

It was an odd wish from a sister who would likely not know love other than his own and that of her brothers in the order. Men had tried to woo her, but she seemed contend with friendship. She had not known a parent's love well. Altair was both brother and parent, though Al Mualim was also as close to a father as she often remembered being so young when Sitt and Umar were taken from her.

Altair well remembered. The pain of loss still stung.

The loss of Adha would no doubt sting for a long time as well.

ZzZ

Altair took a breath as he came before Al Mualim. Two others were there also, Kadar and Malik Al-Sayf. Malik was his age, a cooler assassin than Altair was as a master. Kadar had recently been elevated in rank and now was just below the full assassin rank. He was young, like his sister, and watched like an eager young pup.

"Ready yourselves." Al Mualim said, addressing Malik and Kadar. "Altair will join you shortly."

The two brothers bowed and left the Mentor with his favored master assassin.

"Jerusalem is rumored to have an artifact. I want you to retrieve it. Be warned. Deal with the Templars only if necessary. Bring this gift to me, Altair so that we may keep it from Templar hands."

Altair nodded and bowed. He turned to leave to gather his supplies.

A'sha was in the courtyard. She held the rein of his mount, gently caressing the soft nose as Malik and Kadar stood with their own a little way away.

Altair smiled as he came to his sister. "Sister. You look well." He said. She bowed to him, an assassin to a master assassin. He smiled more and cupped her chin, cupping her chin, raising her to her full height, lifting her kohled gaze to his own.

"I hear you are going for to bring us glory, brother."

"Do I not always?" He said.

So, she had been told, but by whom. The Master most likely. He often to spoke to her. She was favored as he was. His dark and mysterious sister never stopped surprising him. He wondered why she had not been chosen to come. Perhaps, Al Mualim wanted her well away from Templars and Robert de Sable, fearing a toxic mix of the girl seeking revenge for the wrongs done her.

Al Mualim did not realize it was her brother who would avenge her. He would not seek him out, but if there was an opportunity, Altair would strike.

Her blue eyes, uncommon in the holy land, blinked, watching him from under her hood. He sighed and embraced her, lifting her off the ground.

She smiled and kissed his cheek before he set her back.

She walked to the platform above the courtyard. She then lifted her arm up as the three mounted and with a great cry that caused all three to look back at her, she screamed. "Victory and Honor, Assassins! Fortune favor your blades!"

Altair smiled and bowed his head. The other two put their hands to their breasts. She returned the salute.

ZzZ

The three arrived a week later in Jerusalem and went to the Bureau. It was there that the three rested for an evening to prepare for their task ahead of them.

They went to Solomon's Temple in the morning or rather what remained of it. The Wailing Wall was one wall of the fabled temple, but under it and the Mosque above it, were catacombs and tunnels, where treasure could be hidden.

The tunnels were dark, lit only by torches that were spread out over a fair distant. Their way was unimpeded until they came around a corner. Altair lifted his hand, freezing them all instantly.

An old man was bent in prayer, words coming from his lips as he rubbed his fingers over some beads.

Altair looked at Malik. Malik shook his head slightly. This man was not a threat, though he could have warned the guards. They could find another way around.

Altair narrowed his eyes and stepped more into the tunnel.

The tunnel dripped with water in the limestone.

Drip, drip.

Drip, Drip,

 _Snick_ …

The soft metal sound of Altair flexing his hidden blade as he moved forward quickly to the old man. He clapped his hand on his mouth and drove his blade into his neck. The man didn't have time to scream, though his mouth opened. He looked up and back at Altair as the master assassin eased him backward as he died.

"A most excellent kill. Fortune favor your blade." Kadar said impressed by the master's work.

"Not fortune. Skill. What a while longer and you might learn something." Altair said arrogantly. He was not sure why the young pup was along, let alone Malik. Malik was only one grade less than Master, was level headed and held fast to the Creed like a life raft.

"Indeed." Malik said. "He will teach to you disregard everything the masters taught us."

"And how would you have done it?" Altair asked.

Malik spread his arms. "I would not have drawn attention to us. I would not have taken the life of an innocent. What I would have done, is follow the Creed." He looked at his brother and then Altair.

"Nothing is true, everything is permitted, understand these words. It matters not how we complete our task, only that is done." Altair said firmly.

"But this is not the way of the…"

"My way is better."

Malik sighed. "I will scout ahead. Try not to dishonor us further." He turned and moved through the tunnel ahead of them.

"What is our mission?" Kadar asked stepping to Altair. "My brother would say nothing to me, only that I should be honored to be invited."

"I was curious why the master had you instead of A'sha. Perhaps her use of poisons was thought to not be of use."

"She is as beautiful as she is deadly, I have heard." Kadar said, smiling a little.

Altair stepped closer. "You wish to bed her?"

Kadar spread his hands. "Only if she desires it also. She is beautiful, but I would rather woo her to marriage than dishonor her. I enjoy her friendship. She was a strong way about her. I rather her smile than her malice." He ducked his head. "And risk the wrath of her brother."

"I am the least of your concerns. Anger her and it isn't my blade you will feel in your last moments, but hers." Altair then looked down the tunnel. "To answer you, the master believes the Templars have found something beneath the temple mount."

"Treasure?"

"I do not know. All that the matters is the master considers it important else he would not have asked me to retrieve it."

Altair then moved ahead to a room where the tunnel opened into. Malik was there, looking out over the room. There were two guards. Above them was a gold ossuary set into the stone.

"That must be the ark of the covenant?" Malik asked.

"Do not be silly. There is no such thing. It's just a story." Altair said looking out.

"Than what is it?" Kadar asked.

Suddenly there were voices.

"Quiet!" Malik hissed. "Someone is coming."

Into the room came Robert de Sable with his men. "I want us through this wall within two hours." He barked in his heavy French accent. "The sooner we possess it, the sooner we can turn our attention to those jackals in Masyaf."

Altair felt hatred hit him, hard and hot, as it had when he had discovered Adha's body. The hatred for the man who had raped and beaten his sister, but also forced him to watch. "Robert de Sable. His life is mine."

Malik turned to him. "No, we were asked to retrieve the treasure. We were only to deal with the Templar Grand Master if it was necessary."

"He stands between us and it, I would say it is necessary." Altair countered.

"Wait…Altair." Malik hissed lowly. "We must consider…"

"You mean cowardice. That man is our greatest enemy. And here we have a chance to be rid of him."

Malik hissed. "You have already broken two tenants of our Creed, now you would break the third. Do not compromise the brotherhood."

"I am your superior in both title and ability. You should know better than to question me." Altair growled.

He jumped down.

Malik hissed, but followed his brother did as well.

Altair walked forward. "Hold Templars." Altair called. "You are not the only ones with business here."

Malik walked and took a position to his right, watching.

"Ah, this explains my missing man." Robert smiled. "Ah, whelp. How is your sister these days? Not in an early grave due to our passed…history." He folded his arms. "What is it you want then whelp?"

Altair took a breath and then charged forward. Malik reached to stop him, but Altair was too quick for him.

"No!" Malik cried.

However, the Grand Master of the Templars was ready for him. He knocked a hand into his face, stunning him a second before the assassin could strike with his hidden blade. He held his arm, hidden blade extended, and then held his shoulder, immobilizing the master assassin to his surprise.

"You know not in the things you meddle in assassin." Robert said holding him fast as Altair struggled. "I spare you only so that you may return to your master and deliver a message. The Holy Land is lost to him and his. He should flee now while he has the chance. Stay and all of you will die." He then smiled. "Well perhaps not all. Your sister I may keep as a pet. She was such a fighter the first time I took her, I would enjoy breaking that spirit. Perhaps in time she would not see me as an enemy, but as a husband, especially if her belly swelled."

Altair yelled even as Kadar and Malik looked at each other. They had not been told this. So, that was why A'sha did not allow men to touch her in any way. The only men she allowed were her brother and Al Mualim, but a rape would explain this.

Her cool demeanor when Malik had been with her after a kill of a man who tried to bed her. The time she had spent away from everyone in the master's tower. Altair becoming a fierce assassin and far more protective. Suddenly it all made sense.

This man deserved to die for what he had done to the order's only female assassin. But to do it, the three of them would need to work together to defeat de Sable and the other men in the room.

Malik took a breath as Altair fought the Templar Master, to free himself.

Robert then threw him through the way he had come and the tunnel collapsed, blocking Altair from assisting his fellow assassins.

Altair recovered and rose to his feet.

He coughed and struggled to find the end of the tunnel. He had to get back to Al Mualim to tell him that Robert de Sable was on his way to cause him problems very soon. He regretted the loss of Malik and Kadar, but they had done their part.

Now he needed to plan and kill the man who had do dishonored his family. First with the rape of his sister and second in removing him from a fight. Clearly, de Sable did not wish to deal with three assassins.

It would be a long ride to Masyaf, alone and weary.


	9. Repelling the Invaders

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 9 – Repelling the Invaders

It was a hard-five-day ride for Altair to return to Masyaf. Long enough for him to think on his failings. He had allowed two of his men, two who regarded him as a superior die because he was full of hate for the man who was the greatest enemy.

He dismounted. A stable boy took his tired mount. He walked to the fountain and cupped his hands. Dust turned to mud on them and then washed away with the flow of the spring. He sighed cupping his hand he drank slowly and first and then gulped water.

He was aware he was covered in dirt, grim, and blood from his minor hurts that had not been attended. He sighed. He had to face Al Mualim soon enough. He walked forward and an assassin came to him. Rauf, a member of Al Mualim's staff came to him. Rauf worshipped Altair like a god, amazed always about his tales of field work.

"Altair, you have returned." Rauf said, pleased as a puppy to see him.

"Yes." Altair nodded.

"Good to see you are not harmed. I trust your mission was a success then?"

Altair ignored him, instead looking at a young couple near the fountain, talking and flirting between each other. How he envied that. "Is the master in his tower?" He asked, not meeting Rauf's gaze.

"Yes, yes, buried in his books like always." Rauf said smiling. "No doubt he expects you."

"My thanks brother." Altair said nodding.

He walked up the long path to the fortress. Never had he walked so and felt so much in it shadow. Never had he felt so unworthy of its warmth and hard stone.

Guards he passed, saluting him, watchful, but always giving him the proper respect to be given to a master assassin. He wondered how long such courtesies would last once the rumors started.

His heart sank further when he walked into the keep and was greeted by Abbas. Once they had called each other brother. Now that time had long passed.

Abbas smiled. "Ah he returns at last. Where are the others? Did you ride ahead. I know you are loathed to share the glory."

Altair ignored him, walking passed him.

"Silence is another form of assent."

Altair turned to him. "Do you not have something else to do?"

"Your sister awaits you." Abbas smiled. "So pretty, but no one will touch her. Why is that? Have you claimed her as your own as you do everything else?"

"That is a disgusting claim, Abbas, even for you." Altair said narrowing his eyes. "We are close being orphaned young. She sees me as a father and brother. No doubt she has something to tell me." He took a step forward. "If you ever make her out to be a harlot or worse make false claims of such a nature again…"

Abbas spread his hands deciding on a new tactic. "I bring word from the master. He wishes to see you right away. He awaits you in his study. Best hurry. No doubt you will wish to put your tongue to his boot."

"Another word and I will put my blade to your throat for your arrogance, Abbas."

"There is time enough for that, _brother_." Abbas hissed and walked away.

Altair took a breath, steeling himself as he walked into the library of the master's tower. Al Mualim was at his desk. He looked up as Altair entered and bowed his head.

"Master." Altair said softly, not straightening. This man was Grand Master of all the assassins. His Master. His mentor. A man he held with respect above all others, and Altair had failed him.

"Come forward then and tell me of your mission. I trust you recovered the Templar treasure." Al Mualim said.

Altair kept his eyes down. "There was trouble master. Robert de Sable was there. And he was not alone."

"When do things ever go according to as we plan. That is why we as assassins adapt and change with need."

"This time, it was not enough."

"What do you mean?"

"I have failed you." Altair had to force the words.

"The Treasure?"

"Lost to us."

The room seemed to hum in Altair's ears then. Al Mualim was silent a moment and then spoke again. "And Robert?"

"Escaped."

Al Mualim came closer to Altair. "I send you, my best man, to complete a mission more important than any other before it. And you return with apologies and excuses."

"I did not…"

"Do not speak!" The voice cracked like a whip. "This is not what I expect, least of all from you! We will need to mount another force to…"

"I swear, I will go and find him…" Altair began. He was already wishing to meet Robert again. The dishonor he had caused to his family made Altair burn with hatred. Now, the Templar had tarnished his pride as well.

Al Mualim looked about as though he had forgotten something. He then looked at Altair. "Where are Malik and Kadar?" He asked.

"Dead." Altair said softly.

"No." Came a voice behind them. "Not dead." Altair turned and blinked feeling as though he saw a ghost.

ZzZ

A'sha had heard of her brother's return. She had gone to the courtyard to greet him. She waited, but then a horse came into the courtyard. A figure was hunched over it.

She moved toward it, seeing crimson in the sunlight and instantly thought the worst. She went to the side of the horse, lifting her hands to the form's face. It was not Altair, but Malik.

"Malik." She gasped. She looked him over. His arm dangled at his side, a bloody mess. She would need to see to him.

She stepped back as two brothers helped him to his feet. Though weak, he still remained on his own feet by some miracle. "Come. Let me see to your wounds, brother." She urged. His condition worried her. What had Altair suffered if a fellow assassin had suffered this much and lived to tell the tale.

"No, I must see the master." He said, voice hard, but weak. He nodded to a sack on the horse. One of the assassins took it. "Come. I must bring that to the master."

He limped a step forward. A'sha shook her head and moved, putting his right arm over her shoulder and keeping him steady against her. He nodded a thank you as they walked.

"I need to see to your arm Malik. You could die."

"I have not died yet. I will not." He said.

She took a breath looking at it dangling useless. "I am not sure I can save it."

"I know you will do what you must." He said. He paused as he looked at her. "Thank you for your help sister."

She smiled a little. "Always, brother."

They made it to the library.

"Where are Malik and Kadar?" Al Mualim asked a figure there. The figure was Altair. He had returned. He looked weary, but no worse for wear.

"Dead." Altair said.

"No." Malik said stepping forward heavily, A'sha just behind him, ready to catch him if he fell from blood loss and see to him. She already was reading herself to amputate his limb. "Not dead." Malik hissed. "I still live at least."

Malik looked like a wraith. He swayed, robes covered in gore, wounded, exhausted, but refused to give in. He stood holding his left arm that was a bloody mess of blackened dried blood and fresh red. He moved closer, hobbling slightly and swaying so much A'sha moved quickly taking his good arm again.

"Brother…please…you need rest."

"Not yet." He said.

"Malik." Al Mualim said.

"I still live at least." He said, staring at Altair, nothing disguising his look of anger and hurt.

"And your brother?"

"Gone." Malik shook his head. He swayed again and A'sha's hand gently pressed to his chest to keep him upright. For a moment he looked at the floor. Then with a sudden burst of angry energy he lifted his head, narrowed his eyes and lifted his hand from A'sha's shoulders to point at Altair. "Because of you." He hissed.

"Robert threw me from the room." Altair's excuses sounded feeble even to his own ears, _especially_ his own ears. He could not meet Al Mualim's gaze of Malik's. A'sha looked at him with almost sorrow. That made him feel worse. Even she didn't know what to make of this. "There was no way back. Nothing I could do to help you and…"

"Because you would not heed my warning." Malik shouted, his voice hoarse. "All of this could have been avoided. And my brother…my brother would still be alive. Your arrogance nearly cost us victory today." He coughed and A'sha held him.

"Malik, please…you need rest." She begged, hoping the master would heed as well.

"Nearly?" Al Mualim asked carefully.

Calming, Malik nodded. There was a slight smile on his pale lips. A smile directed at Altair for now he beckoned the other assassin with them who came forward holding a box. "I have what your favorite failed to find." Malik said. His voice was strained and he was weak, weakening by the moment, but nothing was going to sour his moment of triumph over Altair.

The assassin set the box on the desk before them. Al Mualim's eye gleamed even as Altair felt his world crash about him. This was the treasure he was supposed to have gotten. A treasure Kadar had died for and Malik was maimed, but had managed to bring.

Suddenly there were screams and the unmistakable sound of clashing steel.

"It seems I return with more than just treasure." Malik reflected and they all turned as someone crashed into the room.

"Master. Masyaf is overrun. Templars are moving through the town! Robert de Sable intends to lay siege."

Al Mualim blinked. "So he seeks a battle. So be it. I will not deny him. Tell the others." He looked at Altair. "Our discussion will have to wait, Altair. For now, make for the village. Destroy these invaders. Drive them from our home."

"It will be done." Altair said, feeling some degree of relief at the turn in events. He could redeem himself by fighting the Templars off. He nodded to his sister who nodded back in greeting before she gently pulled Malik to the medic ward. This time he moved willingly having delivered his message.

He made it under his own power, barely.

She laid him on a table and began to see to his hurts, stripping him to his waist. He made no complaint as she moved quickly. Seeing to his most grievous injury first, his mangled arm. She took a breath and shook her head. It was barely remaining as it was. It was a wonder he had not bled to death.

Her hands were sticky with his life blood which stained her robes and her arms from fingers to elbow. She worked quickly, knowing that she needed to do so to keep him alive. She was not about to let him die. Not after what he had been through. A tale she was sure. One she wished to hear.

She moved getting a bite stick and milk of the poppy. She poured him a measure.

"I need to be able to fight with my brothers." He protested.

She pressed him back. "You are not going anywhere. I have to remove your arm. You are in pain now, but it will be more so and I have no others here to hold you down. Please Malik."

He looked at her, his calm, collected nurse. Her tattooed face was lit by the candles of the room and the fire place. Her hair was hidden. She was very beautiful this close. He had the sudden urge to kiss her, but he steadied himself. She drew a thing around his arm, just above his elbow and tightened it, hard. He grunted in pain.

"Sorry." She murmured.

He looked at her. "It is all right." He cocked his head. "You have such skilled hands. Who knew that someone who was versed to take a life could also save one."

"It is the dichotomy of healing in an order such as ours." She answered, finding a needle and sturdy thread.

He nodded and drank the liquid. Almost instantly it began to take hold due to his limited reserves. She had him bite the stick as she then cut through the bone. Three short cuts and his arm dropped away. She then sewed what she could as he lay there, watching her face as she bent in concentration to save his life.

It took more than an hour.

By then he had lapsed into unconsciousness, though he lived. Two assassins started to bring her wounded as she washed her hands free of Malik's blood. She ordered he be moved to the small cot she used when she had to stay and watch medicines or remain due to lives being in the balance.

"You have to live Malik. Please." She begged him as she then kissed his brow and moved to see to her next patient as she hear cries above them.

ZzZ

With little more she could do for the wounded, A'sha took a breath. She needed out of the medic ward for a time. It reeked of blood, piss, and fear. She checked on Malik, finding him, for now stable, resting, which was what he needed to do. She ascended to the battlements where the assassins had gathered.

"Heretic!" Came a voice she knew all too well. She moved to the battlement edge. Robert was below them on horseback, shouting up at them. "Return what you have stolen from me!"

"You've no claim to it, Robert! Take yourself from here before I am forced to thin your ranks further." Al Mualim shouted back.

A'sha looked about. High above them, she could see three assassins on the tower platforms that extended out into the void of the canyon. Her eyes widened when she saw the closest was her brother, Altair.

"You play a dangerous game!"

"I assure you, this is no game!" Al Mualim shot back. He saw A'sha watching, her brow furrowed.

"So be it! Bring forth the hostage!" Robert barked to his own men.

A Templar moved forward holding the bound, beaten, and bloodied form of Kadar. So he had survived only to be used for a show execution, A'sha thought. Sure enough the Templar drove his sword into his back. Kadar stiffened and then dropped to the earth dead.

"Your village lies in ruins and your stores are hardly endless." Robert continued. "How long before your fortress crumbles from within. How disciplined will your men when your wells run dry and the food is gone?"

"My men do not fear death, Robert. They welcome it and the rewards it brings." Al Mualim countered.

"Ah, but you have at least one woman in your ranks. Present her as an offering of good will, with the treasure and I will leave this place with my army. She will make a fine woman to mother my children. If not, I do not know what my men will do if they find them."

A'sha shot a look to the master, who ignored her, but Robert had a point. A marauding hoard would gladly find a woman and use her until she expired. A'sha would take as many of them out before she killed herself, but the others?

"The women here are assassins also. Death comes to us all. Some are better at welcoming it."

"Good. Than they shall have it all around."

High above them, Rauf, who stood on the center platform looked at Altair, whom he had gathered. "Follow me and do so without hesitation."

"Show these fool knights what it is to have no fear." Al Mualim called up to them. "Go to God!"

With that all three leapt up and out, dropping earthwards with high speed.

A'sha could not control a yelp as she moved to lean on the battlement to see them. She could not, but her eyes were wide with horror.

However, their falls were broken by placed hay stacks. Rauf and Altair landed, but the third broke his leg and screamed in pain. Rauf moved to hush him looking at Altair.

"Quickly, cross the ropes. Release the trap and unleash hell." Rauf told him.

"Ah. There she is." Robert said smiling. A woman would react so to such an event. Though the others would flinch, a woman would cry out.

A'sha lifted herself slowly, proudly, looking down, her face shadowed by her hood. She narrowed her eyes at Robert, but said nothing.

Al Mualim stepped to her. "She will never be yours. She is an assassin above all and you are lucky I do not send her to you. She would have you dead before you left this place."

"A shame. I would have made her rich with fine clothes. She would have had figs and grapes to eat in France with cheese and wine."

Just then there was a roar. Greased logs fell into the town and where the knights stood. Robert looked behind him and gasped realizing his error. He had trapped his knights in an area and the logs would crush them.

Above, A'sha watched with grim satisfaction as she turned to leave to see to her patients.

Al Mualim watched her go. A woman she was, betraying the fact only when faced with death. Her cry had helped the illusion.

Now, she was an assassin, cold, calculating as she walked to the stairway.

He took a breath and looked across at Altair as he moved to make his way back across the canyon on the rope and then climb the walls.

Al Mualim would have to deal with him.

But first he had to speak to Mailk al-Sayf.


	10. Death of a Traitor

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 10 – "Death" of a Traitor

Al Mualim supervised the burials of the dead and then went to see Malik.

It was early evening, but the Assassin was awake and taking broth and small pieces of bread from A'sha as she sat at his bed side, hood down, thick hair in a long braid that she had coiled about the back of her head. He took the offerings, knowing he needed strength.

She was talking softly with Malik as Al Mualim stepped into the room.

Malik looked up. "Master." He greeted, bowing his head.

A'sha did as well, but said nothing as she then lifted another mouthful. "Two more, Malik." She said softly.

Al Mualim stepped to Malik's side and looked down at the stump that was wrapped with skill, but still stained with blood. "Even you, with all your skills, my child…could not save his arm?"

"No master." She said.

"But it was her skill that has kept me alive." Malik said nodding as he then took the last bite. She rose to her feet, clearing the blow and spoon. She then bowed to the Master and moved to leave them, but Al Mualim's hand shot out and took hold of her arm.

"Stay." He said softly.

She looked at him startled, but then nodded and moved to see to Malik's dressings. Malik drew himself up straighter and A'sha put another pillow behind him to help him. She then saw to the wounds on his side first.

"Tell me what happened, Malik." Al Mualim said softly as he pulled a chair to his side.

"We went to Solomon's Temple as commanded. We found the tunnels under the temple. Along the way we avoided guards, but there was an old man praying. An innocent. Altair took his life."

A'sha's breath caught a little. Malik heard it and looked at her a moment. She did not lift her eyes from her task. She knew breaking the first tenant was bad enough, but she also stiffened a little as though she knew there was more to come.

"I tried to remind Altair of our Creed, but he said his way was better. Forgive me master for not stopping him." Malik continued.

"How did you come upon Robert de Sable?"

"He was in the treasure room. Altair called to him and we faced him, but he proved too strong for Altair alone. Altair was thrown from the room." Malik again looked at A'sha. "Upon hearing about his need to settle a matter of honor over his sister, I almost forgave him breaking the second the tenant." He looked at A'sha and touched her hand as she unrolled a bandage. "For what it is worth, sister, I am sorry. No woman deserves such a fate."

She closed her eyes a moment, a singular tear fell from her eye. "It is not an excuse for him to put your lives in danger." She said quietly. Moving her hand away as if her touch burned her.

"If you were my sister, I would have done the same." Malik said softly trying to get her to meet his eyes.

She shook her head. "Altair is a master assassin. He should have known better." She moved away redress the stump of his arm.

He followed her with his eyes as did Al Mualim.

"She is right." The Master said. "He broke the laws that govern us. No matter the reason. It keeps us safe." He looked at Malik. "How did you come to know of what happened to A'sha?" He knew well Altair would not have spoken of it and neither would the girl. It was a tragic secret few knew of, but it explained everything about her drive, zeal, and hatred for the Templars.

"Robert used it to taunt Altair." Malik said softly.

"Altair was thrown from the room?"

"Yes. Kadar was quickly surrounded by Templars. He was stabbed by one of them. I faced Robert and injured him enough to escape. However, the only way to do so was climbing the walls. Not easy to do when the man had nearly removed my arm." He said ruefully. He looked at A'sha again as he flexed it. "It is a curious feeling. It feels like my arm remains, but clearly does not."

"It is called phantom pain." She said not meeting his gaze as she wrapped the stump with a liquid soaked bandage. He winced a little in pain. "You may have it for some time." She said.

He lifted his good arm to her arm. "I thank you for all you are doing sister." He said.

She nodded curtly.

"How did you manage to claim the treasure?" Al Mualim asked.

Malik took a breath. "The first room I came to. It was there. In a shrine. I took it and ran to find a horse. I knew I needed to reach Masyaf. I heard them plotting."

"So all three tenants, Altair broke for his own needs."

"Yes, master." Malik said.

"We have buried your brother." Al Mualim said rising.

"How did…?"

"They brought him here and executed him before the gate." The master said. "I'm sorry Malik."

Malik looked down feeling sadness and anger. "What is to become of Altair?" He asked carefully.

"I have not decided." He looked at Malik. "I will find something that will be just. His crimes against his brothers are too great not to go without punishment."

Malik looked up at A'sha as she stepped back to look at her work. "It would seem we both will lose siblings this day. For what it is worth, I feel your pain." He said.

"And I will soon know yours." She said, fighting tears as she bowed to the master and left them.

Malik looked after her. "It is only fair Master. A life for a life. Kadar died due to is arrogance and not adhering to our Creed."

Al Mualim nodded and left him.

ZzZ

Outside the door, A'sha was waiting, hood up, waiting. "Master." She said bowing.

"A'sha." He said. "You know what I must do and why."

She nodded. "My brother broke the Creed and put us all in danger, not just himself. For that he should be punished, but…"

"But…?"

"He was your best man. You know this to be true. No other was his equal. No other can do as he does."

"Then how do you propose I kill him and yet do not?"

She lifted a vial from her robes. "The tears of Dinah." She said. "Gives one the look of death for three days. The victim will wake, but think they themselves have died. A clever thing the Christians use though the Egyptians named it, after a young woman lost her husband when her brothers murdered him, his father, and every man in the town."

"An interesting tale. Why do you tell me this, child?"

She lifted to the master. "Coat your dagger. Stab him. He will die for all to see and then return to learn what it is to be a member of this order once more. I will stitch his wound closed. He will could still be of use to you. The Templars grow in numbers. You need every man, master."

He took the vial in wonder. "And if he does not redeem himself through tasks I give him?"

"Than I will kill him myself for the disgrace he brings upon the order."

"An interesting proposition." He said. "My most clever child. The one no one knows is stronger than the order combined." He nodded. "I will do this, but you must leave from here away from his influence, for a time. I think you understand that as well."

"Where will you send Malik?"

"I have decided to send him to Jerusalem. He will do well as a Rafiq. He has the head for it and the binding to the Creed."

"I will join him then. Keep his wounds from becoming putrid and learn what I can from him and those who would seek our ruin."

He lifted a hand to her shoulder. "One almost would forget that you are still not yet twenty, my little mouse." He looked upward. "Will you come to the courtyard and watch me pass sentence?"

"If that is your wish Master."

"It is. It will help make it believable that he was executed."

She nodded and moved to do as commanded.

ZzZ

The Assassins assembled in the courtyard. Al Mualim stood before the door of the fortress. Before him stood Altair with two guards to either side of him. A'sha had come and stood to the side, watching somberly.

"You did well in driving Robert de Sable from our home. His force is broken. It shall be a long while before he shall trouble us again. Tell me, do you know why you were successful?" Al Mualim asked his pupil before him.

Altair was silent.

"You listened. Were it that you had listened in Solomon's Temple, Altair. All of this could have been avoided."

"I did as I was asked." Altair said.

"No. You did as you pleased. Malik has told me of the arrogance you displayed. Your disregard for our ways." The Master nodded and the guards stepped to Altair and took hold of his arms.

"What are you doing?" Altair asked startled. He struggled, but found they held him in an iron grip.

"There are rules. We are nothing if we do not abide by the Assassin's Creed. Three simple tenants." Altair looked down. "Which you seem to forget." Al Mualim took his face in his hand to make him look at the master.

Ah, a lecture. Altair relaxed slightly.

"I will remind you. First and foremost. Stay your blade…"

"From the flesh of an innocent." Altair said. "I know."

The crack of Al Mualim's palm to Altair's cheek echoed off the stone walls. Altair's head had snapped with it and he felt his cheek heat.

"And stay your tongue!" Al Mualim roared. "Unless I give you leave to use it. If you are so familiar with this tenant, than why did you kill the old man inside the temple? He was innocent. He did not need to die."

Altair refused to look at his master.

"Your insolence knows no bounds." The Master continued. "Make humble your heart child, or I swear I will tear it from you with my own hands." He paused and then paced away. "The second tenant is that which gives us strength. Hide in plain sight. Let the people mask you such that you become one with the crowd. Do you remember? Because as I hear it you chose to expose yourself, drawing attention before you struck." He took a breath. "The third and final tenant. The worst of all your betrayals."

Altair looked at his sister who was breathing hard, watching. He did not want her to really see this. She was his little sister. She needed to think of him as a hero, not a fool, as he had been.

"Never compromise the brotherhood. It's meaning should be obvious. Your actions must never bring harm upon us, either direct or indirect. Yet your selfish actions in Jerusalem placed us all in danger. Worse still, you brought the enemy to our home. Every man we've lost today, was lost because of you!"

Al Mualim stepped away, collecting himself. "I'm sorry, truly I am." He said, drawing his dagger. "But I cannot abide a traitor."

Altair's eyes widened. His head was still slightly to the side, his eyes down, cheek smarting from Al Mualim's blow. No. Not that. Anything, but that. Not a Traitor's Death.

"I am not a traitor!" Altair said straightening.

"Your actions indicate otherwise." Al Mualim said quietly. "And so you leave me no choice." He looked at is student. "Peace be upon you Altair."

"No!" A'sha cried trying to move forward.

Al Mualim's eyes flicked to her as a guard caught her and restrained her. She struggled, trying to reach her brother. Ah, the girl was a fine actress when she wanted to be. After all this was her idea in some measure.

With a breath, Al Mualim plunged his dagger into Altair's abdomen. Few would know it was a non-lethal spot. Altair cried out in pain as he looked up at his master in bewilderment and sorrow. He dropped to his knees as the guards released him.

A'sha was released at a nod from the master. She ran to her brother's side, pulling his head into her arms. "Altair! No!" She whimpered.

He looked up at her. "I'm sorry." He managed.

She wept. Her tears were real. She was hurt and angry at his betrayal as any there. She looked up at Al Mualim who was watching. She took a breath and held her brother close as she felt his life ebb in her arms.

The master dismissed all, but his most loyal men from the courtyard. The sentence was done. Altair would die and that was the end. A clear message for any who would wish to decent from the order and forget the laws of the Order.

He went limp in her arms and she nodded slowly, allowing him to lay on the flagstones. She rose to her feet and looked at Al Mualim and bowed her head. "I will see to it." She said softly as she walked into the fortress.

The Master nodded to his men to follow her and take the body of her brother for her to tend. Any who saw would assume she was preparing him for burial.

Once inside a quiet part of the mortuary, she stripped him to his waist, doing as the master ordered, collecting his possessions for the master to have. She stitched the wound with due skill. It had bleed as much as she expected. She dressed it and then pulled on a clean robe with the held of Rauf.

He nodded to her as she went and washed her hands. She then went to her room and wept. She beat her pillows with her fists. It wasn't fair.

Her brother should have known better.

He promised to care for her always. Always be there to guide her, teach her, love her.

Now she would be on her own.

It was time to come into her own as an Assassin.


	11. Seduction, Romance, and Revenge

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 11 - Seduction, Romance, and Revenge

Malik blinked feeling the sun on his face.

He turned his head away and looked over. He was in a litter, bouncing on the road. He had been placed in this litter a couple days ago. He was to travel, heal, and become Jerusalem's new Rafiq since her was no longer able to preform the full duties of an assassin, though he did have his mind which was sharp, and his hobby of cartography that Al Mualim also saw value in. He was a strict follower of the Creed and a good man.

"Where are we?" He asked, lifting a hand to block he sun.

"On the road to Jerusalem." A'sha said with some amusement as she sat at the far side from him. On her arm was a large eagle with a headdress that blocked her eyes to keep her calm. A'sha was caressing the bird's stomach gently before lifting her to her stand near her.

"What do you plan to do with that?" He asked nodding to the bird.

"She is my friend. She comes with me wherever I go."

He nodded. He looked out at the caravan they were in. "How far are we from the town?"

"Four days." She said sitting back, clearly bored also.

"Why are you not on horseback?"

"I needed to keep an eye on you."

"Me? I am well enough."

"You have an injury that will take weeks to heal fully, brother. It is only a week old."

"So you are to travel with me as my healer? Do you really have nothing better to do with your time?"

She looked at him and leaned forward, eyes glittering from under her cowl. "What offends you more, brother, that you have a nursemaid or that I am Altair's sister?" She asked.

He swallowed. Really? Could she so easily read hearts? Perhaps there was credence to the rumor he had heard that she was a magic user.

"Being an assassin, surely it offends you more to be my nursemaid."

She laughed at that. "Perhaps, but honestly, I have had harder duties. I get to learn a new town, feel her heartbeat like our home. Know the people."

"You are actually excited about it."

"Why would I not be? It is a change. A chance to see something new. Learn new things."

He smiled in spite of himself as she sat back. "You are a very interesting creature, A'sha."

She cocked her head. "Creature?"

"You have a strange way about you. I really have no way to judge your character and normally I am good at it."

"An enigma then. It is good we will know each other in the coming days then, is it not? I am to be your right-hand man, though perhaps I should be the left, given the circumstances." She said.

He grunted. "Arrogance must be breed into your family."

"Just as a lack of humor must be bred into yours." She said eating a fig her eyes watchful and they danced under her cowl.

Oh, this child would be a handful. Child, hell she was only five years his junior. Perhaps she was right. He needed an ally he could fully trust, and yet, she was the sister of the man who had cost him his arm, his brother, and almost his life, despite the fact she had saved his.

He watched her as they fell into silence. She was beautiful, clever, and spoke her mind only when she was comfortable with someone. She was mysterious. He cocked his head as he looked out at the caravan. He had a deep-set anger and need for revenge against Altair, but perhaps his sister was the key to it.

To bed her, turn her into his whore, make her loyal to him and not her brother. That would give him an odd sense of justice.

But how to go about it?

She had been raped. He had heard that that left emotion baggage that did not fully heal. Perhaps he could help her learn that she did have self-worth. He knew from talking to Altair that her brother feared that one day she would become so detached from her emotions she would be an ice queen, killing and losing her soul.

As night fell he watched her sleep. How could anyone have harmed such a creature.

Something caught his eye. He moved quickly, catching it as it made for her out stretched arm. However, it put him in very close proximity to her. She smelled of cinnamon and another warm spice he could not place.

He shifted to move away and blinked finding her had cool steel against his neck and her palm near it, her hidden blade extended to his flesh. He froze as she looked at him.

"What are you doing?" She hissed at him.

He lifted the scorpion he held that was struggling.

She relaxed. The blade retracted. "Apologies." She said.

He nodded and tossed the creature out, but then smiled ruefully at her. "You are a very light sleeper."

"When on a mission or the road…yes." She said settling back.

He nodded. "Sorry I woke you, sister."

She waved it off.

ZzZ

They arrived at the Bureau and Malik set about seeing to his new duties. The older Rafiq took his leave, allowing the pair to see how things were done. He offered advice to Malik, which the new Rafiq took well, knowing experience counted for a lot in a region such as this.

A'sha saw to replenishing the medical stores. She then set about making her room a place she could live in for some time.

Malik did the same. The Rafiq's quarters were the largest in the Bureau. Two doors down was A'sha. He could see the light coming from the curtain as she moved about after night fell.

She came to see to his dressing. He sat, allowing her to see to him as he remained naked from the waist up. She looked up and saw him watching her.

She then stood back and bowed. "Is there anything else you require, Rafiq?" She asked.

"Share a meal with me?" He asked nodding to the meal that had been brought for him. It was set on a low table with cushions about it.

She had been expecting to find some on her own, but after a moment she nodded, washing her hands and dropping to the cushions. He pulled on his robes and sat down also, finding the meal to be quite delicious.

The cook was Syrian, naturally, as they were, and had made unleavened bread with many sauces. Fruits and sugar coated treats were for dessert.

The pair spoke, learning about each other. The more he learned, the more he wished to learn more. A'sha was a very interesting woman. Often overshadowed by her brother and the rest of the brotherhood, it was clear Al Mualim saw, as he too was beginning to see the value the mouse of the order had.

ZzZ

At was a long month, but Malik grew strong again. He was amazed one day when A'sha had brought him his Rafiq over-robe of black that she had modified. She had sewn the left sleeve to just below where his stump was.

A thoughtful gift.

She always seemed to treat him with dignity and tried to assist him as much as she could. She truly was his most trusted man, though he had three others whom he had as well, friends he had called upon from Masyaf and whom the master had allowed to travel to him.

He was working on a map when A'sha returned from tracking. She knew well Talal was a man who should not be trusted. An expert marksman with a bow, as she was, she had gotten close to him by being in an archery tournament, disguised as a man.

She returned to Bureau and had not had time to change.

Malik looked up, startled to see the stranger walk into his Bureau. He blinked and was about to draw his weapon when he noticed the eyes. Those eyes could belong to no other.

She smiled, in her guise and went to her rooms.

He followed, amazed she was able to pull off such a disguise. She made a rather fair boy, but still it was hard to see that she was female.

She did not hear him enter as she pulled off the wig and hat that hid her hair, that tumbled down her back in a waterfall. She then pulled off her tunic, revealing the linen that bound her breasts to her body.

He blinked, suddenly stirred as she reached for the end. His hand came and stayed hers. She gasped startled, feeling his close proximity to her. He then took the end and tugged slightly.

He smiled as she moved, twirling until it unraveled and dropped from her, revealing her full breasts. He stared at them and she looked at him and snapped her fingers to gain his attention.

"Oh! What did you learn?" He asked as she turned pulling on a fresh tunic and she began to wipe the painted facial hair she had on.

"He deals in human lives. A cruel man. He likes to use his bow though. He did not take well to me defeating him in the first round."

"Surely you let him win."

"Of course, when it mattered. I could not reveal myself, but he seemed to appreciate that I had his same skills. He spoke openly about his work."

"Well done."

She turned to him.

He dipped his head. "Dinner will be served shortly."

She nodded.

ZzZ

She came to his room and sat down. She wore a loose tunic and linen pants. She had her hair loose about her shoulders. For the first time she did not wear kohl on her eyes and was not have a cowl.

They ate, speaking about the temperament of Jerusalem.

When their meal was done, she saw to his arm. It had healed very well. Though it pained him a little, he clearly had made it through the worst of it.

He turned his head, his breathing had changed. She looked up at him. Her eyes were so lovely. The tattoos oddly enhanced her strange beauty and his feelings for her.

He lifted his hand to her cheek and bent kissing her, softly, his lips asking a soft question. Can I have you?

She answered, kissing softly back, but then pulled back, looking at him. "I should go."

"You could stay." He said taking hold of her hand. He brought it to his lips.

She took a breath and shivered. He realized she was conflicted.

"A'sha. I know what happened to you. I do not want you to be uncomfortable or scared. But know, I enjoy your company."

She nodded closing her eyes.

He let her hand go to show he was sincere.

She took a deep breath. "Do you have wine?"

He smiled a little and nodded. "Of course." He rose and poured her a beaker. She downed it hurriedly and lifted it for another. He blinked and poured it. This time she sipped it.

"Forgive me. I need to calm myself." She said.

He nodded as she sat down on the bed. She finished the wine and then walked a few paces away. "Malik…I want you to see me." There was a polished mirror behind her on the chest.

"I do see you. Strong and proud."

"All of me." She murmured as she lifted the tunic over her head.

He blinked seeing her full breasts again. He realized then that his want to wound Altair was secondary to his desire for this woman, no matter who she was. He rose to his feet and went to her. He stood close to her and his hand moved, fleeting up the taut flesh of her belly and then cupped the breast.

"You are so beautiful." He murmured.

She shook her head. "Not all of me." She said slowly.

"What?"

She reached up, removing the earring she wore, revealing part of her ear removed. He touched it and shook his head. "A message to Al Mualim." He said. "That makes no difference."

Slowly she turned to him, revealing her scarred back. Malik shuddered, but only to think at the pain she had endured to survive this. He dropped his head in sorrow.

"See, you cannot look at them." She said turning back to him and moving to claim her tunic from the floor.

His hand shot out to stop her. "No." He said. "I cannot look at them because I know the pain you suffered. This was done with such fury and hate." He shook his head and then bent and kissed her deeply, pressing her back against the chest, bumping it. The mirror wobbled a little.

His hand went and touched the scars and she shivered a little at the curious feel.

"Will you have me?" He asked softly.

She looked at him, her arms going to his neck. "Yes, Malik. I will have you."

He smiled as he kissed her again, tasting the wine there as his tongue touched hers. She gasped, but did not push him away. Her body reacted and she kissed him back.

He smiled, lifting her to him he walked them backwards to the sleeping pallet. He sat down, pulling her down to him, her knees to either side of his own. She kissed him again, his arm wondering his back and downward to the waistband of her pants. He ducked his hand in, cupping a buttock, squeezing it as he pulled her closer.

She felt his desire for her. When she was breathless from kissing him, she pulled back from him. He looked at her, a question in his eyes. She smiled and simply pulled the linen pants from her hips and moved behind him on the bed.

He watched her. "You have the most glorious ass I have ever seen on a woman. Has anyone ever told you?" He asked rising.

She laughed and moved her legs looking at him. "No. That is not what they normally are looking at. Most remark on my blue eyes."

"Well. Those are lovely too, but everyone sees those." He said.

"You saw me before once."

He blew out the candles, except the one beside the pallet. He walked to her, slowly and then sat. He carefully shed his own pants and rolled looking at her.

"Yes, but at that point I was too afraid of you to even try to bed you."

"You are not now?"

"Oh I am, but I am sure I will be safe. I am a Rafiq after all. It would be hard to explain."

She laughed at him as she rolled onto her back.

"You laugh is like music. You should do it more." He said nuzzling her breasts as he lay beside her. He took one in his mouth and then held the other with his hand.

She moaned softly. She shivered a little in the cool night air that came in through the window.

"Don't worry." He said, drawing the bed clothing about them. "I will warm you, my sweet."

She felt him shift and she moved her legs to accommodate him. "You have done this before." She said looking at him.

He looked suddenly affronted. "Of course, I have. More than your brother."

She shook her head. "I have no interest in boys and their conquests."

"Well you did ask." He said settling and kissing her nose.

She beamed. "So I did." She felt his hot desire for her against her thigh.

He looked down at her as he lifted himself on his one arm. He then realized he had an issue. Thankfully, she realized it without him saying a word and she reached down between them and found him. She shifted her hips, looking up at him as she put him to her entrance.

Her hands, small and delicate on him made him forget his task in hand at the moment, but he snapped back to reality when he felt the tip of himself resting against her. He looked down as her hand snaked back up to his chest. He then looked at her face as he thrust forward.

She gasped sharply. She had not been expecting it to have a sharp pain. But it was gone almost as fast as it had come. She smiled up at him and moved her legs a little as she pulled him down for a kiss as he looked at her dubiously.

He had hurt her. He had not wished to do that, but he was losing his self-control quickly buried to the hilt within her. His balls against her warm rump as she cradled him there. Her hand went to his own buttock as he began to move, holding himself above her as he moved deeply within her.

She made the most interesting and erotic noises as she moved with him, her legs over the backs of his. She gasped, eyes opening, as she arched against him, mouth open as she gave a breathy whimper. He had never seen something more erotic.

The other girls had been quick, in the dark, conquests, nothing more, a game of boys, but this girl was not a quick roll in the hay. No he wanted to have her at his side. He knew, with some pleasure that it would be a barb to Altair to have his sister with another man.

His thoughts jumbled as he grunted, feeling himself spurt into her as he moved in an odd staccato way of men when they ejaculated into a woman. He then sighed and collapsed on her. Fleetingly, he thought he should keep his weight light, but when she wrapped herself about him, he relaxed, head against her collarbone, letting his heart settle, feeling it against her chest, feeling her own doing the same.

He wondered. Had she ever had such pleasure since her attack? He had a certain pride to think he had been the one to be there for her after. He would be there for her now always.

He lifted himself and blew out the candle as he settled against her. She rolled onto her side and he smiled, pulling her back against him, bodily, holding her in his arms. He watched her fall asleep. The trust that took was not lost on him.

ZzZ

They had been lovers four times that night. He woke with an odd restlessness in his limbs. He looked over. She was her stomach.

For the first time he could clearly see the scars of her back. They crossed and had left little, but bone in places. He traced one with his finger. He sighed. No one would harm he so ever again.

He bent and kissed the scar.

She woke and shivered a little. "What are you doing?" She asked softly.

"Good morning, sweetheart." He murmured, laving another with his tongue.

She twitched. "That feels strange."

He smiled. "I want you to know. I do not see scars. I see a beautiful woman. Just as you do not see half a man." He said lifting his stub as she rolled to her back.

She smiled. "Malik…"

He kissed her soundly. "Come. I am starving. I am sure you are as well." He said.

She nodded, smiling playfully as he shot out of bed and dressed as she rolled over moving to gather her things in a slower pace, finding that her thighs had an odd tenderness to them, that walking about seemed to help.

They ate together in the main hall. "How are you?" He asked gently.

"Hungry." She said eating the flatbread with the lovely fig jam and tea.

He arched an eyebrow.

"Oh. I am fine." She said smiling. She he had seen her walking.

"Indeed. I only wonder since I clearly took your virginity. I wanted to make sure you are well enough."

She froze. "You know well enough that was taken from me years ago." She hissed lowly aware his men were near.

He smiled and leaned close to her. "Yes, but that was unwillingly stripped from you. This was one you gave willingly." His dark eyes were watching her. "And if any ask, the blood on the sheets will stop talk about your attack."

"What?" She blinked.

"You bleed." He said softly, a hand going to her cheek. "You have lain with no one since have you?"

She swallowed. "No." She said.

"Good." He said, voice full of possession.

ZzZ

It was a month later when Altair had come back.

Malik and A'sha had been lovers ever since their first night together, speaking long and frankly about what they had both been through. It was healing for them both. He had listened, held her, prepared to mend her as best he could as she spoke, strangely with little emotion at what she had suffered. She had listened to how he felt about the loss of his arm.

In this, a love bloomed between them. One that was reflected in word and action. Malik was the calmer of the two, slower to anger, but once his ire was raised it did not dissipate as hers did. He was far less forgiving than she was.

Their frequent encounters had warmed her, making her more open to speaking to other assassins who came to rest and stay in the Bureau. She had the respect as the second highest ranking person there who could order as the Rafiq could.

Though his men knew of their love affair, few others did. They kept it well enough hidden for her protection he claimed, but more that he wished to watch Altair's face when he told him that his sister was now his and there was nothing the former master assassin could do about it.

A pigeon had informed Malik that the low ranked assassin was on his way. As part of his punishment he was required to rise through the ranks again. That gave Malik a certain pleasure, but he fumed about Altair living when he had been told he had died.

A'sha commented that perhaps the master saw something none of the others did. Perhaps giving him a chance to redeem himself was the way to keep order.

Perhaps…

He knew, by how she reacted, that she had known of his survival.

Strange.

How would she have known…unless…the master had ordered her to assist him.

Altair arrived five days later. Malik had sent A'sha on a mission to gather information for him. Veiled no one paid heed to her.

The master had been amused when Altair left. Now he knew why. He had found it amusing that Altair would again cross paths with Malik.

He walked into the Bureau and saw Malik there behind the desk. The two regarded each other, neither bothering to hide his distain for the other. Then Malik turned, slowly, showing Altair where his arm had once been.

Altair blanched. Of course. Damaged in the fight with De Sable's men, the best surgeon in Masyaf, his own sister, had been unable to save Malik's left arm and had been forced to amputate.

Malik smiled. It was a bittersweet smile of victory that came at too high a price. Altair remembered himself then. He had no business treating Malik with anything but humility and respect. He bowed his head in acknowledgement of the other man's losses. His arm, his brother, his status. Though as a Rafiq he was higher in status than he had been, he would never rise above it due to his injury.

"Safety and Peace, Malik." He said.

"Your presence deprives me of both." Malik spat. He on the other hand had plenty of business treating Altair with distain. It was clear he meant to do so. "What do you want?"

"Al Mualim has asked…"

"That you complete some minimal task in order to redeem yourself. Very well, out with it."

"Tell me what you can about the one they call Talal."

"It is your duty to locate and assassinate the man, Altair, not mine."

"You would do well to assist me. His death benefits the entire land."

"Do you deny his death benefits you as well?"

"Such things do not concern me."

"Your actions VERY much concern me!"

"Then do not help me I'll find him myself." Altair said moving to leave.

"Wait. Wait." Malik said sighing. "It won't do having you stumbling about the city like blind man." Better to know where to begin your search."

"I'm listening."

"I can think of three places. South of here in the markets that line the border between the Muslim and Jewish districts, to the north near the mosque of this district, and east in front of St. Anne's church, close to the barbican."

"Is that everything?"

"It is enough to get you started, which is more than you deserve." Malik said turning from him.

ZzZ

Altair returned near sundown.

"Come to waste more of my time?" Malik asked looking up from his maps he was working on.

A'sha had returned. She sat on the stairway leading to the sleeping rooms. She shot her lover a look and he looked back at Altair, ignoring the barb she shot him. Give him a chance, her eyes said.

"I have found Talal. I am ready to begin my mission." Altair said.

"That is for me to decide." Malik said, lifting a book from the desk.

"Very well, here is what I know. He traffics in human lives, kidnapping Jerusalem citizens and selling them into slavery. His base is a warehouse located inside the Barbican north of here." Malik was listening as he paced. Altair had not noticed his sister was there, listening also. "As we speak, he prepares a caravan for travel. I'll strike while he's inspecting his stock. If I can avoid his men, Talal himself should prove to be little challenge."

"Little challenge. Listen to yourself. Such arrogance." Malik hissed.

"Are we finished, are you satisfied with what I have learned?"

"No!" Malik said. His eyes caught A'sha's. "But it will have to do." He said lifting a white feather, a marker to be dipped in the blood of the target as proof of the kill. "Rest, prepare, cry in the corner, whatever it is you do before a mission, do, but do it quietly." He mocked.

A'sha's eyes narrowed as she descended the rest of the stairs as her brother turned.

He gasped, seeing her. He ran to her, folding her into his embrace and sighing happily. He kissed her hair and looked heavenward. She was still here at least.

Malik watched. As much anger as he had for the man, watching him embrace his sister with affection made him know Altair was a good man somewhere within him.


	12. Discoveries and Secrets

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 12 – Discoveries and Secrets

A'sha was making ready for her morning. She was braiding her hair with sure hands. Behind her, Malik was watching her, leaning on his good arm. She pulled on her assassin's robes and then sat on the pallet to pull on her boots. They were made of soft leather and made her soundless.

She lifted her left arm and flexed her arm. The hidden blade shot forth with a snick. She then relaxed her hand and it dropped back into her sleeve.

She smiled as she felt Malik's head press to her shoulder as his hand wrapped about her, pressing to her belly. He lifted his head to her shoulder. "When were you going to tell me?" He murmured, lips pressing behind her ear.

"Tell you what?" She asked, wondering what he meant.

"This little belly of yours." He said playfully cupping the small swell. It fit in his hand still.

She smiled and shook her head as she rose to her feet. "I had not noticed."

"I have. Your breasts are larger and more tender. They have darkened like wine grapes. You have not bleed in three months." She paused hearing that. He had noticed when she had not, well not until she started to feel…off and had had gone to see a physician. "Your belly is swelling. And you are more distractible of late." He continued.

She turned to him. "I have not been distractible!" She said sounding affronted, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

"I have dreamed of you becoming pregnant and now you are."

She sighed. "We cannot tell anyone yet." She said.

"Why not? I planned to run up to the roof and shout it."

She gasped throwing a pillow at him. He laughed rolling onto his back pulling her down to him. He kissed her and smiled. "I love you." He murmured.

"I know. I love you too." She said and went to check a rumor.

ZzZ

It was only a month later when A'sha could not longer hide her belly. Nor could she hide the illness that took her in the mornings. It was often nearly midmorning before she could rise. She had taken to eating a small amount of bread and tea in the morning to settle her stomach.

Malik took it in stride. He had first noticed her laziness one morning and when he chided her about it, he had quickly helped clean her up when she her stomach had rebelled. He had let her rest.

When she was ill and he was there, he held her hair, gently caressing her temples to calm her. He had spoken with a physician when he went to fetch her some special tea. Such illness was very common for a woman to experience and often would pass later in the pregnancy, but it was the child that caused it.

Feeling badly that he had caused her to be so ill, Malik made sure that her duties were cut back to allow her to rest. When it became evident when she could no longer hide her condition from the others, they were welcoming and happy for the pair.

When she was able, Malik left the Bureau in the hands of his third, Kareem, his elder brother who was now a master assassin. He had come through and was happy to see his brother happy and content. It was his idea the pair should travel and speak to Al Mualim.

It had been a long six days ride for the girl, but she rode a gentle mare. Malik allowed the mare to set the pace for the journey. He did not wish to bounce his lover too much as she rode. She seemed to often be in her mind as she rode, thinking, eyes closed as if she were mostly asleep. They camped in small grassy areas. The sweet grass was a comfortable enough bed for the young woman and she seemed to sleep well enough, especially if Malik made love to her under the stars, being gentle and loving as she watched the stars move above them.

Once at Masyaf, their horses were seen to as Malik lifted the young woman down from her mare. He took her hand and walked into the fortress.

"I must speak with the master." Malik told Rauf when he spotted the man.

"Of course. He is in his study as always."

Malik nodded and gently he led his lover with him to the master. He was feeling apprehension for the first time in some time. How would the master react to them being lovers, how would he react to his marriage suit, and how would she react to it. She was seemingly content to be his mistress, but the baby changed things. He needed to do right by her and her child. Give his child his name and be there for them.

Al Mualim was looking out the window, hands behind him as they entered. Both bowed, though, for the girl it was awkward. "Malik. What has brought you from Jerusalem with you lieutenant as well? Is all well?"

"My brother watches the Bureau while we are away. There was a matter of some urgency, but nothing that will endanger the Brotherhood master." Malik said.

"Indeed." Al Mualim said turning. "Then what is it?"

Malik reached down and took the hand of A'sha. "I wish us to be wed. To be man and wife for all to see and know."

Al Mualim and A'sha shared the same look of shock. A'sha's did not melt away as fast as Al Mualim who chuckled. "Well, well, my boy. It would seem my choice for you has worked well then."

"What?" Both she and Malik said together.

"Do you not think I did not wish you two to be together. You both have had grievous hurts, ones not easily overlooked, unless your mate has suffered the same fate." He looked at A'sha. "You do not consent, my child?"

"I…I was told we were seeking advice, not that I was going to be married." She said.

"You object?" Malik asked, his voice having an edge, his look a touch crestfallen.

"I didn't say that." She said lifting her hand. "I was just startled." She said. She moved. As she did her travel cloak moved, revealing her swollen belly.

"Well, well. That is more cause to wed." Al Mualim said. "How far gone are you then, my child?"

"Five months." She said softly.

Al Mualim nodded. "Another five and your child will come into this world as an assassin."

"Can you marry us Master? We should return to Jerusalem as soon as A'sha has rested for a day or two." Malik said. He looked at the girl affectionately.

Al Mualim nodded. "Yes."

ZzZ

At sundown, the assassins of Masyaf gathered in the courtyard.

A'sha had changed into a lovely dress of dark blue and wore a veil that shimmered in the dying light. A beautiful woman. The dress did nothing to hide her pregnancy. She seemed to embrace it. Malik wore his best robes and was smiling happily as he stood before his beloved.

Al Mualim stood before them.

The pair listened to Al Mualim speaking about the brotherhood, love, honor, and marriage among the assassins.

Abbas sighed watching, eyes narrowed. He had wished to court her himself, but had been unsure how to do it. He was not sure how he felt about the beautiful first female assassin being wed to a cripple. She would have done better with a man who could see to her welfare.

The pair said their vows and then kissed as the sun set.

The assassins cheered and then went to them, offering congratulations, and good health. They all feasted and danced.

It was well into the night when the pair retired. A'sha was nearly asleep standing upright. Malik ushered her to bed, stripping her and laying her down. She looked up at him sleepily as the lay on a pallet in a guest room.

"We have to consummate our marriage, Malik." She said, stifling a yawn.

He smiled and gently caressed the swell of her belly. "We did that some time ago. You are weary Habititi." He murmured. "Sleep."

She shook her head, reaching for him.

He relented, pressing himself into her as she lay on her side facing him. He lifted and held her leg over his hip, moving against her, watching her as she rocked against him. They finally succumb after gently rocking, taking their time, savoring the moment.

He drew her close, kissing her brow as she settled against him.

She was wed now, his wife. Altair was her brother, but she was wedded to him. Malik's single best triumph over the former master assassin. He had taken Altair's sister, bedded her well and often, made a child in her womb, and now, married her.

She slept now and he too fell into the realm of dreams. They were safe here, but how long before the Templars changed that. What kind of land would his child be born into?

Malik would see that his child, boy or girl, would be raised in the brotherhood, learn the Creed, learn how to know justice, know right from wrong, and know what it meant to be an assassin.

ZzZ

Three days later they rode back to Jerusalem.

Kareem had welcomed them home

A'sha took a day to rest. Malik had business in the city. Kareem watched over his new sister-in-law. He had commented to his brother that he had expected them to take longer, enjoy their honeymoon.

Malik had replied that there was time enough for that when the Templar threat was extinguished and when A'sha had delivered. For now, the pair would do their duties as assassins.

It was soon discovered that A'sha, as a woman was able to blend into the crowd unseen. As a woman with child, everyone treated her with kindness, moved from her path, spoke kindly to her. It became more so as her belly grew. A woman with child was somewhat magic, two lives in one body, two hearts beating.

Women would come, touch her belly and tell her it was a strong boy or a beautiful girl depending on how they saw her belly. It amused A'sha, though at first, she did not like to be touched by strangers. When she realized it was the way of things, she relaxed and allowed the women to touch her. Men were respectful of her, holding doors, offering to carry things for her.

She was carrying high and round though most of her pregnancy. From her studies as a healer, she thought it was a boy, but she did not wish to get Malik's hopes up. Malik wanted a son, but he had told his wife he would be content with which ever. A strong son or a beautiful daughter. Either way it would be an assassin.

A'sha had cut back her missions in the town so she could rest. She was getting large enough that it was hard to move about and she became tired more easily. Her back hurt fairly often and she waddled about the Bureau, seeing to assassins doing missions, compiling accounts, seeing to the healer's stores, and making sure things were in order when Malik left to deal with his contacts.

Those who came to the Bureau quickly learned it was not the Rafiq who needed to be appeased in the method and ways, but his second-in-command who ran the Bureau while he was away. She was just as fair and just as he was, perhaps wiser.

Malik often teased her that as large as she was, that she carried twins. She had not like the idea. He secretly hoped not as well. Twins were dangerous for the mother, often came early, and at least one would often come as a footling, a breach birth. Though this child often came second, it's path cleared by the head of its twin, there was no saying for certain. Such births were a danger and Malik could not lose the love of his life. It would break him.

Those who had come to know her well, Malik's men who were under her command as well, would bring her treats and even flowers. This made her smile as she moved about the Bureau. It was far more homey in its feel than other Bureaus, likely because a woman helped run it. A favored rest stop to any assassin or novice who passed through.

As the time passed the bulge in her belly began to drop downwards, a sign the baby was making ready to come into the world. Malik and his men, who viewed her as not only a sister in their order, but a sister as if she had been born to their family, kept a close eye on her and though she because fatigued more readily, she seemed more devoted in her new hobby, copying texts and illuminations she had found.

The new ruler of Jerusalem had become a tyrant.

He was not the sort who shared power well. He was able to come to power due to Saladin leaving, but he had an iron fist. A'sha had been listening to some guards and heard there were to be executions soon. She had stood up from where she had been sitting, leaning back against the weight of her child.

A guard noticed and came to her, offering her help. She thanked him, but told him she would be on her way. He watched her go commenting that a woman with child was always an odd sort of beauty.

She returned to Malik and reported what she had learned. He frowned.

This was not good for their city.

ZzZ

Sure enough there was a scaffold being raised for an execution. She saw the cages. A woman, two men, and, she froze, a brother assassin.

This never happened when Saladin had ruled the city.

She had heard her uncle was a hard man. Despite that, he had been the picture of religious tolerance. She wished to meet him, know the man who had cast his sister from Damascus for becoming pregnant with an Assassin's child. That child was her.

She was curious. What was the sultan like? Surely, he was human and though he may not welcome her with open arms, perhaps he would at least allow her to be his guest. He had reached an uneasy truce with the assassins. They had not bothered him, but A'sha had heard rumor that Al Mualim was calling for the deaths of Nine men, on both sides of the Crusades.

She had heard this from her brother. Nine Templar lords who would lead the Holy Land to ruin.

She sighed and returned to the Bureau to speak to Malik. He listened, frowning. "I will send a bird to Al Mualim, asking what to do with our brother. Thank you for your information." He paused. "A bird came today. Altair will be coming to deal with the blight you speak of."

"Majd Addin is a blight." She said. She moved to eat, her child made her often hungry.

He smiled as she moved to the desk with a small bowl of sesame cakes, a favored snack of hers, tea, bread with honey. He moved to his maps as she sat on a stool and ate. It was high enough that she had to lean forward to eat, hiding her swollen belly for the time being.

Soon, too soon, her time would be upon her. He would send her to Masyaf in a caravan to ride in a litter. She would be too fat to ride a mount and riding could cause labor to come faster than desired he had been told.

Altair walked into the Bureau then, startling A'sha. Malik looked up at him. He had changed somewhat in his feelings toward Altair, having spoken at length to his wife. He was guarded, but not full of outright hatred and distain. Malik frowned straightening from his work.

Altair greeted him with a bow. "Safety and Peace, Malik. Sister." He said nodding to her. "You as well."

She dipped her head in greeting, licking a dip of honey from a finger.

"Were that the city was possessed of either. Why do you trouble me today?" Malik asked.

A'sha rolled her eyes. Malik was not one to forgive easily.

"Al Mualim has marked Madj Addin for death. What can you tell me about him?"

"Saladin's absence has left the city without a proper leader and Madj Addin has appointed himself to play the part. Fear and intimidation get him what he wants. He has no true claim to the position."

"That ends today." Altair said.

"You speak to readily. This is not just some slaver we're discussing. He rules Jerusalem and is well guarded because of it. I suggest you plan your attack carefully. Get to better know your prey."

"With your help I will. Where would you have me start my search?"

"What is this? You are actually asking me for help, not demanding it. I'm impressed."

"Malik…" A'sha said lowly in warning.

Both men turned and looked at her. They had seemed to forget she was even there as the crowds did when she walked among them.

Altair sighed. "Be out with it then."

"As you wish." Malik said nodding. "Here is where I would look. First to the south west of here at the mosque. After that, head south, there are two locations that might interest you. The southern most church is one and the other is in the streets near a synagogue."

"Thank you for your help Di."

"Do not foul this Altair." Malik said in warning. He then sighed. He looked at his wife as she sat watching them, eyes gleaming under her cowl. "A'sha has been in the streets. I am sure she had more information for you, should you wish it."

Altair turned to his sister. He dipped his head to her in respect. She was still a higher rank than he. She smiled at him and lifted herself off the stool and walked around the desk to greet him.

He embraced her, but then froze and pulled her back, hands holding her arms as he looked down between them at the swell. He had felt the occupant move against him.

"What is this?" He demanded, startled to find her so.

She smiled a little. "I am with child." She said as if it mattered little. She shifted to move away from him, but he held her fast.

"Yes, I can see that. For how long?" He demanded, anger flaring that someone had touched his sister. He ducked his head down to be level with her own, hands holding her still.

Malik watched, not wishing to interfere, though he would if need be. This was between siblings, though he did relish the look of shocked horror on Altair's face when he noticed.

"Still some time to wait." She said. "The physicians think it will be two more months at least." She looked at the swell as if trying to judge.

"I think soon sooner. Much sooner." Malik said.

Altair looked up at him and then back at his sister. "You did not send me word." He murmured. "Who did this? I want his name?"

"Why?" She asked.

"So, I can castrate him for a start." He hissed.

Malik smirked. Good luck with that, my friend. She would have your head first. She took a breath and glared up at him.

"I am not a child, Altair. I am an assassin also. I am fully capable of taking care of that on my own."

"Who did this." He growled, fingers flexing hard enough to bruise her.

"Altair…let me go." She hissed. "You are hurting me."

"His name, sister." He said looking at her as she turned her head away.

"No." She said. "I will not let you harm him."

Altair growled and shook her once, hard enough that her neck snapped with the motion. "He is so beneath you that you will not name him or have there been so many you cannot recall who fathered it?" He asked lifting an arm to gesture.

The slap startled them both. Altair's head jerked to the side with the impact and A'sha stood before him, hand raised. Altair was impressed with how hard she had hit him. It had hurt him and he could feel the imprint of her small hand on his cheek.

He turned back, fire in his eyes.

"Never call me a whore again brother." She said in low warning, hand raised to strike again.

He took hold of her hand and hold it twisting the wrist so she was turned away from him. He held her sharply. The little mouse had gained claws and he was not about to make that mistake again. Her hood had fallen back revealing her think hair gathered into an almost Grecian hairdo.

"Enough Altair." Malik said stepping to him. "Why does it matter so much to you?"

Altair looked up. "She is my sister. You would do the same if someone had violated her."

"Violated her how?" Malik asked. "Do you not think if she were not happy she would have come to you. Told you whose genitals were marked for assassination if not the man?"

"You are right." Altair said softly, voice defeated, but eyes still full of a mix of curiosity and anger. He released her and stepped back. "Forgive my words, sister. They were in anger. I did not mean them."

She straightened and turned back. "Forgiven." She said, taking a breath.

Malik stepped to her. "Are you all right?" He asked softly.

She nodded. "I'm fine. He was just startled."

Altair watched the pair as Malik tender pushed a wayward part of her hair back behind her ear. That was not the move of a leader to his second, but a man to his lover.

Malik. It was Malik's child.

Altair moved suddenly pinning Malik back against the large desk, hands holding the lapel of his robes. "What have you done?"

"An odd sense of irony is it not?" Malik asked coolly, calmly looking up at Altair. He lifted his hand as his men came into the room hearing the raised voices. This was not their affair.

"What do you mean?"

"You took everything from me. Now I have everything that was yours."

A'sha growled from behind him. "I am not a possession to be fought over."

"No?" Malik asked. "It does not matter, I won you."

She scoffed and left them, going up the stairs. At the top she faltered. Thankfully a younger novice was there. He gasped and took hold of her. "Are you well Di?"

"Yes. I think I just need to lay down. My head is pounding." She said.

He nodded and helped her to the rooms she shared with the Rafiq. She laid down and he poured her water.

"Thank you." She said nodding to him as she sipped it and then settled.

Malik looked up at Altair after watching her leave. "She may be your sister by blood Altair, but she married me." He hissed, smiling in triumph.

Altair stepped back and shook his head. "I will speak to her later, when I return."

"Hopefully her temper will have cooled by then." Malik said ruefully. He straightened and looked upward.

Altair nodded and left.

Malik took a breath and walked up the stairs.

The young novice came to him. "The lady is not well, Rafiq."

"What?" Malik asked. He moved quickly to the room. It was darkened. He could make out his wife on the sleeping pallet. He nodded to the boy to leave and then went to her gently. He could tell she was not sleeping. He could hear the small muffled sounds and knew she was weeping.

"All right beloved. Out with it." He murmured moving to sit behind her, his hand going to touch her shoulder.

She withdrew from his touch violently. "Tell me true Malik. Did you want me only as a way to get back at Altair for what he had done to you?" She asked looking away from him.

He sighed. "Once, perhaps." He murmured. "I had such anger, but then I came to realize that I loved the woman." He bent, pressing his lips to her shoulder. "I know you are angry with me. I will allow you to rest and we can speak later."

She took a shaky breath. "I am not a conquest." She said.

"No." He agreed. "But you are my wife and I love you more than my own life."

"Where did my brother go?" She asked wiping the tears from her face angrily.

"He went to gather information. He will return." Malik promised.

She nodded and closed her eyes.

He bent over her, arm stump resting on her shoulder as he bent and kissed her cheek softly. "Rest. Such stress is not good for you or your child." He murmured, caressing her hair softly with his good hand. "For what it is worth. I am sorry." He whispered. He rose and walked to the entrance. "I love you so much, remember that, Habititi." He murmured and left her, but she had heard him.

ZzZ

Altair did return.

It was nearly sunset.

He took a breath as he saw Malik seated at a table, drinking tea. A'sha had remained in bed the rest of the afternoon not wishing to speak to any. Malik allowed her to have her space for now.

Malik looked up at his brother-in-law. "What news novice?"

"I am not a novice." Altair said.

"A man's skill is defined by his actions, not the markings on his robe."

"We can trade barbs or do Al Mualim's work. It's your decision."

"Then be out with it! What have you learned?"

"How is my sister?" Altair asked noting her absence.

"Sleeping last I checked. She is rather angry with us both." Malik said lifting his tea glass in a mock salute. "I knew this day would come, but it was not how I planned it."

"You expected to gloat over me?"

"Once, perhaps, but…" He sat forward. "Know this Altair. I love your sister more than my own breath. The child we made is a physical manifestation of the love we have for each other. Can you not be happy, at least for her, that she had found someone who loves her fully and respects her as a woman and an assassin?"

Altair sighed and dropped into the seat before Malik. "You are right. I am actually very pleased for you both." He said. "I was just startled was all." He took a breath. "I would have thought she would at least tell me of her condition."

Malik nodded. "If she were my sister I would have done the same, Altair." He sighed. "She is a good woman. You know this. After all you have known her since birth."

"So have you." Altair said. "You watched her grow from infant to girl to woman as I did."

"But not as you have." He sighed. "Blood is thicker than anything other binding agent." Malik said. He sat back. "Now, tell me what you have planned for our great leader to fall."

"Jerusalem's regent, Majd Addin is holding a public execution not far from here tomorrow at midday. It is sure to be well guarded, but it is nothing I cannot handle. I know what to do."

"And that is why you remain a novice in my eyes." Malik said with a half sneer. "You cannot know anything, only suspect. You must expect to be wrong, to have overlooked something. Anticipate, Altair, how many times must I remind you of this."

"As you wish. Are we done?"

"Not quite." Malik said rising to walk to his desk. "There is one more thing. One of the men to be executed us a brother, one of us. Al Mualim wishes for him to be saved. Do not worry about the actual rescue, my men will see to that, but you must ensure Madj Addin does not take his life."

"I won't give him the chance." Altair said.

Malik nodded slowly. He then brought out a feather for Altair. "So I hope."

"I am going to speak to my sister." Altair said.

"As you will, but be careful of her ire. Her pregnancy has made her quicker to anger and harder to appease."

Altair smirked. His little sister he could handle. He had had years of practice. He made his way to where he saw a light in the largest room.

A'sha was awake, sitting on the floor on a pillow, looking at some papers before her. He walked in. Her papers were drawings, ones he knew she had drawn. Some were of people, others landscapes, and some drawings were of things that seemed more abstract.

She paused hearing the floorboards creak. "I will join you for supper in a moment Malik."

"I am sure he will be glad to hear it." Altair said.

She looked up startled to see him. He squatted down before her and lifted a drawing made with charcoal.

"These are amazingly detailed." He said looking at them. She had such details in the hands and faces. He looked up at her as she watched him wearily. He sighed. "I came to apologize." He said softly. He moved and sat beside her on the floor, drawing one leg up as he leaned against the wall she was.

She looked at him. "I know you are just doing your duty as a big brother." She said.

"No. I hurt you. I am sorry for it. I am happy for you even. You are married, have a child on the way, have a man who cares for you…not a man I would have picked, but I cannot have everything and it is your life."

She chuckled lightly and shoved him lightly with her shoulder. He chuckled also. He lifted a hand to her face. "Are you content? Happy?"

"Very." She said.

He nodded. "That is all I ask for you."

"Altair." She said licking her lips. "I wish you could know such happiness." She said.

He sighed. "I am not sure it will be my fate." He leaned to her and kissed her brow. "I will just have to be content with yours."

She smiled and then gasped in pain.

He shifted looking at her. "What is it?" He asked.

The panic in his eyes made her smile. "Malik is always the same. You two are more alike than either of you will ever admit." She said smiling more. "It is fine. It just kicked hard." She said. She lifted her hand and took his as he sat on his knees before her. He gave it willingly and she laid it at the spot where the baby was moving about.

He looked in wonder. He had felt this before, when A'sha herself had been inside his step-mother, but now, as a man, it was different. This was his niece or nephew. He looked up at his sister and beamed. "So strong. Does that hurt often?"

"No." She said. "If it kicks my bladder it can cause issues." She said.

He nodded. "I am sure." He laid his head down in her lap, gently caressing the swell before his face. He then spoke softly, whispers to the baby.

A'sha smiled. "It knows you." She said smiling happily over the swell at him.

Malik had come to the room. He looked in and saw the pair talking. Altair was lying looking up at his sister with such affection. Malik's jealousy flared a moment, but he quickly quelled it. It was not a time to be jealous.

Brother and sister needed the time to bond as adults and the child was a great way for them to do so. He wondered if Altair would ever know the love he had for A'sha. Though he still was angry at the man, he knew, watching his interactions with his wife and the child within her, that he was deep down, a changed man.

He had peace.

Malik forgave him.


	13. The Death of Robert de Sable

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 13 – The Death of Robert de Sable

The three had shared a meal. Malik was quiet as the two siblings spoke. Altair frequently hand his hands on the swell of his sister, watching trying to guess if it was hand, foot, or head that he felt. The babe was large enough that the hand or foot could be seen as it moved about, trying to find a way to be comfortable in the confined space.

Any other would have made Malik jealous and annoyed, but with Altair, he could say little. After all it was A'sha's body that carried it. She could determine whom she was comfortable touching her so.

Malik left early to see to contacts. Make sure all was ready with his own men to rescue the brother being held.

Altair had breakfast with his sister before he left to go to the execution.

A'sha, though capable of helping and creating a distraction, was large and ungainly she could not move as fast as was needed. So she would remain at the Bureau.

Altair listened to the raving leader, using his stealth and the crowd to edge closer.

He was able to make his mark. Strange. He listened again to the dying words of the man. It was an odd puzzle. One he needed to share with someone. His sister perhaps.

He returned to the Bureau. Malik was there.

"Jerusalem needs a new leader." He said showing the marker.

"So I have heard."

"What's this? No words of wisdom for me? Surely, I have failed in some spectacular fashion."

"You preformed as an assassin should. No more, no less. The fact you wish praise for merely doing as told, troubles me."

"It seems everything I do, troubles you."

"Reflect on that. But do so on your way to Masyaf. Your work here is done."

"I will speak to my sister first."

"She is around here somewhere, I am sure of it." Malik said.

Altair nodded and bowed then turned to find his sibling. He found her in the open-air courtyard of the Bureau, hidden without a way to get to it, except through the secret entrance of the Bureau. She was resting in the shade, drinking water to stay hydrated, reading something.

"Sister." He murmured.

She looked up at him as he crossed to her and sat down on a bench near her. She wore the loose robes of an assassin, modified to accommodate her expanding womb.

"Altair." She said, setting her work to the side. "How are you? Do you bring Majd Addin to his knees?"

"He is dead, yes."

She nodded and shifted. He moved to help place a pillow at her back.

"You seem…unwell."

"No, just tired. My ankles swell and my body aches. It is all common I have heard."

He sat down on the divan she was on and lifted a foot to his lap. She was barefoot. Her tiny feet were swollen with fluid making it hard to tell where her foot ended and her leg began. He sighed and gently began to rub the limb.

"I need to speak sister." He said.

"Say whatever you wish, as long as you continue." She said.

"Feels good then?"

She nodded sighing in pleasure.

"I have questions." He said.

"How so?" She asked.

"The merchant king of Damascus murdered the nobles who ruled his city, Madj Addin in Jerusalem used fear to force his people into submission, I suspect William meant to murder Richard and hold Acre with his troops. These men were meant to aide their leaders. Instead they betrayed them. What I do not understand is why?"

"It would seem the answer is obvious. The Templars desire control. Each man wanted to claim their cities in the Templar name, that the Templars themselves might rule the Holy Land and eventually beyond." She sat forward a little. "We as assassins cannot allow this, Altair."

"Indeed." He looked at her. "The treasure we took from Robert de Sable. What do you think it is? It looks to be just plain silver. An orb of no value other than the metal it is forged in."

"The Master has said it is Temptation." She said. "Have you ever read the Christian Bible brother?"

He cocked his head. "Not much of it."

"According to the master, the plain silver orb is what cast out Adam and Eve, turned staves into serpents, parted and closed the Red Sea, and helped a poor carpenter turn water to wine at a wedding."

"It seemed rather plain for all the power that our master claims it holds."

She nodded.

"But how does it work?"

"That is something the master has not shared with me." She said. He moved to her other foot having worked some of the liquid back into her leg.

"Garnier's men?" He asked looking at her.

"An experiment. I am sure of it. To duplicate the effects." She cocked her head. "There are many such herbs that can open men's minds to suggestion."

"You would know of such things sister." He said. He looked up at her. He knew well her work and gift with poisons and their antidotes.

"It is not a hard skill to learn if you have patience for it."

"So Talal supplied them, Tamir equipped them, they were preparing for something, but what do you think."

"War." She said.

"And the others? The men who ruled the cities. They meant to gather up the people. Make them like Garnier's men then?"

"The perfect citizens." She said. "The perfect world." She made a face. "The perfect soldiers." She shivered. "I enjoy my free will."

"Robert de Sable can never have the treasure back."

"That is why we guard it brother."

He nodded and sighed shifting to lay beside her, her legs on his own, keeping them elevated to help ease the swelling in them further. He looked up at the sky above them through the strips of cloth hung to give shade.

The clouds danced on the wind above them. He sighed, remembering as a child, with her, trying to guess the shapes of them as they lay on the ground of the courtyard looking up. It had been such an easier time for them all.

"Do you ever wonder why we do all this?" He asked.

She looked down at him. "Our will is Al Mualim's or have you forgotten."

"I know, but this all seems so strange. The men I have killed. They all speak of wanting peace. A better world."

"What we strive for." She said softly.

"You see my conflict." He said sighing.

She nodded and looked down at him. "You should speak to the Master about this. He can answer you." She said.

He nodded. "I ride for Masyaf today." He sighed and rolled to his side. He caressed the swell gently, only of only three men who would dare to do so without seeking her permission. "I worry for you." He murmured. "This child is large and you are small."

"I am no larger than many women at this stage." She said looking at him. She smiled a little at him. "I am well enough. It will be born at Masyaf." She pulled him close to her. "The head of the hydra remains brother. Bring me his head." She hissed.

"Robert de Sable?"

"He took everything from me. I have reclaimed what I can, but the assassin goal and my own join soon. He is the Templar lord." She sighed releasing him. "Be on your guard. He is a strong foe. Do not under estimate him."

He sighed and nodded. He rose and bent, kissing her brow. "I will return to you. Keep well Sister. Safety and Peace be upon you."

"And you also brother." She said as she watched him leave her.

Malik appeared shortly later. "He has gone then?"

"Yes." She said shifting to stand. He moved to help her as she shifted the awkward weight. She sighed as she swayed a little finding her footing.

"I will be happy when you have safely delivered." He said gently letting her lean on him.

"I will as well." She said ruefully.

ZzZ

Altair made it to Masyaf.

At last his final target was Robert de Sable. His mouth made the orders, his hand that paid the gold, and with his death, the Templars would fall. However, he needed to put aside his need for vengeance for his sister for the good of the Holy Land and the people.

Jerusalem was where he first met him. It was where he would find him.

He rode back to Jerusalem. It was strangely welcoming given his task. He had taken ten days to ride back and forth between Masyaf and the Holy City.

He entered the Bureau. Malik was there, his sister was not in evidence, but he was not worried, Malik was calm which meant A'sha was safe. Malik was a first-time father and would likely be more nervous than most, despite his cool collected nature. Both men worried for the girl.

"Safety and Peace, Altair." Malik greeted.

Altair blinked. He had not been expecting Malik to have warmed to him. "Upon you as well brother."

"It seems fate has a funny way with things." Malik said.

"It is true then Robert de Sable is in Jerusalem."

"I have seen the crusaders knights myself."

"Only misfortune follows that man. If he is here, it is because he intends ill."

"Indeed. It is well enough your sister is too round to move as an assassin. Otherwise she would likely have her blade in his throat."

"I will not give him the chance to act." Altair said.

"Do not let vengeance cloud your thoughts brother. We both know, no good can come of that." Malik said.

"I have not forgotten." Altair said. "You have nothing to fear. I do not seek revenge, but knowledge."

"Truly you are not the man I once knew." Malik said. "Your sister is away from harm. He can no longer do her ill at least."

"My work has taught me many things, revealed secrets to me, but there are still pieces of this puzzle I do not possess."

"What do you mean?" Malik asked as he began to pace a little, listening.

"All the men I have laid to rest have worked together, united by this man. Robert has designs upon this land, this much I know for certain. But how and why and when and where, these things remain out of reach."

"Christians and Saracens working together."

"They are not of these things, but something else. They are Templars."

"The Templars are part of the Crusader army."

"Or at least that is what Robert would have Richard believe. No, their only allegiance is to Robert de Sable and some mad idea that they will stop the war."

"You spin a strange tale brother."

"You have no idea, Malik, but tell me where they have been seen. I should be after him before he slips away."

"There places I can say for certain. West of here near the tower and a hospital and to the south-west near the church of Holy Sepulcher. See what you can learn. I will do the same."

"I will be quick as I can."

"Stay safe, brother."

Altair nodded and left to gain some information.

A'sha walked into the main room of the Bureau, her belly leading the way. "Who was that?"

"Your brother." He said looking toward the door.

"He did not come to see me?"

He moved to go to her side. "Hush, love. He is on a great errand from Al Mualim."

She sighed and dropped onto a couch awkwardly. He sat beside her, looking at her as she sat back, exhausted from walking about. "I will be glad when this child comes." She hissed. "I tire so much of my body being so useless."

He sighed and bent kissing her softly. "You are not useless." He said.

"I feel like it. I feel like a bump on a log." She moved rubbing her side as she winced.

He saw the ripple over her belly flesh. "How long as that been going on?" He asked.

"A few days. The physicians call it false labor." She said.

He arched an eyebrow. He had not noticed. He had noticed the child had dropped further into her hips and made it harder for her to walk and balance. "Are you sure those are not labor pains?"

"They do not become worse and they stop." She said sighing.

"All the same, I would be more comfortable if you leave for Masyaf soon. Yusuf will help you."

"You will come?"

"Yes. I will have Kareem remain here, but we must first settle with the Templars."

"Robert de Sable."

"Yes." He said.

"A pity I am so. I would have liked to have helped Altair."

"You are helping. You are staying away from harm so he does not have to worry for you."

She grunted.

ZzZ

Altair returned after dark. Malik and A'sha were sharing a meal. Malik nodded to his brother. "Come Altair. Speak of what you have learned to us."

"I have learned much about our enemy." Altair said dropping to sit beside his sister who was reclining on her side like a Roman, picking at her food, but at least she was eating.

"Share your knowledge then. Let us see what can be done with it." Malik said nodding to him.

Altair tore bread and dipped it in a sauce. Liking it he took more before he spoke as his sister poured him tea.

"Robert and his Templars walk the city. They have come to pay their respects to Madj Addin." Altair began between mouthfuls of the good food.

"He was buried more than a week ago." A'sha said looking at him as she sipped her tea.

"However, his funeral is tomorrow and they will attend it which means so will I."

"Why would Templars attend his funeral?" Malik asked ripping bread.

"I am yet to divine their true intentions, though I will have a confession in time. The citizens themselves are divided. Many call for their lives. Still others insist they are here to parley, to make peace."

"Peace?" A'sha spat. Her pretty face twisted making her fair features look ugly and hateful.

"I have told you, the others I have slain have said as much to me." Altair continued.

"That would make them our allies and yet we kill them." Malik said sitting back regarding Altair.

"Make no mistake, we are nothing like these men, though their goal sounds noble, the means by which they would achieve it are not. At least that is what Al Mualim told me."

"So what is your plan?"

"I'll attend the funeral and confront Robert."

"The sooner the better." Malik said lifting a feather.

Altair took it and nodded finishing his tea.

"Fortune favor your blade, Altair." Malik said.

Altair rose to his feet. "Malik, before I go there is something I should say." He said.

"What is it?"

"I have been a fool."

A ghost of a smile danced on his brother-in-law's lips. "Normally I would make no argument, but what is this? What are you talking about?"

Altair's eyes flicked to A'sha and then to Malik. "All this time, I never told you I was sorry. Too damn proud." A'sha stopped chewing to look up at her brother with love, awe, and admiration. He had grown up. "You lost your arm because of me." Malik touched his stump out of reflex at its mention. "You lost Kadar. You have ever right to be angry with me."

Malik took a breath and rose to his feet. "I do not accept your apology."

"I understand." Altair said, head dropping.

"No, you do not." Malik said. Altair looked up at him, eyes questioning. "I do not accept your apology because you are not the same man who went with me into Solomon's Temple. You have nothing to apologize for."

A'sha smiled a little.

"Malik…"

"Perhaps if I had not been so envious of you I would not have been so careless myself. I am just as much to blame."

"Do not say such things." Altair gasped lifting his hand.

"We are one. We share the glory of our victories. So too should we share the agony of our defeats. In this way we grow closer. We grow stronger. As a family." He said looking down at his wife who was smiling with pride at them both.

"Thank you, brother." Altair said offering his hand to his brother-in-law.

Malik took it in welcome, holding his arm strongly, near his elbow as he stepped about the low table and embraced the man who not was truly his brother.

A'sha wiped a tear from her eye as Altair turned to her. "Sister? Are you well?"

"Yes." She said. "I'm just happy to have my family whole." She said.

He smiled and dipped down to kiss her wet cheek. Malik walked behind her and caressed her hair. "Rest if you need to, Altair, so you may be ready for what lies ahead."

Altair nodded to go find a room to mediate and relax.

A'sha took hold of Malik's hand at her shoulder as she looked up at him. "I am proud of you. Letting go of your hate."

"You taught me that."

"What?"

"I learned from you, in how you are. Hate makes you weak. To forgive make you strong."

"I will never fully forgive Robert de Sable."

"But you forgave Altair."

She nodded. "Yes. And others."

"See." He said. He bent and kissed her brow. "Come. You are in need of rest."

She nodded in agreement, taking his hand to help her rise as he walked with her to their rooms to allow her to rest.

Once there she looked at her husband as he saw to extinguishing the candles about. "Malik." She said softly.

"Yes, Habititi?"

"I think it would be best…" She paused and shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. "Would be best of you have me go to Masyaf tomorrow."

He looked at her. "There is a caravan leaving tomorrow. I will have a litter ready for you."

She nodded and sat back rubbing her side and swollen belly. "You will come to Masyaf. As soon as you are able?"

"Of course." He said lifting his hand to placate her. She seemed nervous. The child was moving in her more than normal, likely from its mother's nerves. Of the pair, she was the collected one, to see her so made Mailk worry for her.

ZzZ

Altair reflected for a time as he sat in his chambers. He had become a master assassin again. Outranking his sister and Malik, but he did not feel the need to flaunt it. In fact, neither had really noticed, but he had gained Mailk's respect. He was not about to lose that. Malik would be a good ally and a trusted friend, united by brotherhood and marriage though his beautiful sister.

Altair attended the service, watching as the religious leader for the Saracens spoke words over the grave that was still fresh and mounded. Robert de Sable stood to one side, though he seemed shorter. Perhaps being so run by fear due to Altair's work, he was a shriveled man of what he used to be.

Suddenly, he was surrounded, fighting for his life, but he then caught Robert. He lifted the helm and revealed a woman. An English woman.

Surprised, he listened as she spoke to him about the Templar plans and that Robert had used her as a way to escape. He, however, refused to take her life since she as not his target. He was also enchanted by the strange beauty as she walked away from him to let him do as he willed.

Altair returned to the Bureau to find Malik there seeing to A'sha being put in a litter to be taken away. The girl looked pale, in pain, and so tired as she looked up.

Altair came to her. "Sister." He had never seen her so undone. He touched her brow, seeing about fever. Finding none he looked at her face.

She smiled a little, though it looked more like a grimace. "Altair."

"Where are you going?" He asked seeing that she had pillows about her to make the journey easier.

"Home." She smiled. "I will have my child very soon. Malik thinks it best."

Altair nodded. "Al Mualim and Yusuf will see you safe. I will join you as soon as I have the villain."

"He was not at the funeral?"

"No." He said. He pressed a kiss to her brow. "Be easy. His tyranny is soon at an end." He hopped down and nodded to the driver.

She nodded and laid back as the cart then moved on.

Mailk looked at Altair. "What happened? I heard the funeral turned to chaos." He asked as they moved finding the Bureau entrance. Altair was impressed at how the Rafiq was able to climb the steep ladder one handed.

Altair waited until they were in the Bureau before he spoke. "It was a trap. Robert de Sable was never here. He sent another in his stead. He was expecting me."

"You must go to Al Mualim."

"There is no time. She told me where he's gone, what he plans. If I return to Masyaf he might succeed and then…I fear we will be destroyed."

"We have killed most of his men, he cannot hope to mount a proper attack. Wait…did you say she?" Malik turned back to him.

"Yes, it was a woman. Strange I know. Apparently, we are not the only ones with the fairer sex helping in our ranks. But that is for another time. For now, we must focus on Robert. We may have thinned his ranks, but the man is clever. He goes plead his case to Richard and Saladin at Arsuf, to unite them against a common enemy, to unite them against us!"

"Surely, you are mistaken. This makes no sense. These two men would never…"

"Oh, but they would. And we have ourselves to blame. The men I have killed, men on both sides of the conflict, men important to both leaders. Robert's blame may be ambitious, but it makes sense and it could work."

"Look brother. Things have changed. You must return to Masyaf. We cannot act without our master's permission. It could compromise the brotherhood. I thought…thought you had learned this."

"Stop hiding behind words Malik. You wield the Creed and its tenants like some shield. He is keeping things from us. Important things. You are the one who told me we can never know anything, only suspect. Well I suspect this Templars goes deeper. When I am done with Robert I will ride to Masyaf that we may have answers. But perhaps you can go now. Catch the caravan carrying your wife, find out the real reasons for what is going on."

"I cannot leave the city." Malik said. He was nervous, however. What would happen if his wife fell upon danger on the road or Masyaf. Both were guarded, but…

"Then walk among the people. Seek out the ones who serve the ones I have slain. You call yourself perceptive, perhaps you will see something I did not."

"I do not know. I must think on this." Malik said.

"Do as you must my brother, but it is time I ride for Arsuf. Every moment I delay, our enemy gets one step ahead of me."

Malik bowed. "Be careful brother."

"I will be. I promise."

"A'sha will never forgive you if you never return to her." Malik said as Altair turned to leave.

"She will never forgive you of you do not see this done and attend the birth of your child."

Malik nodded. "That is likely true." He sighed.


	14. The Master of Lies

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 14 – Master of Lies

A'shadieeyah bint Umar-La'Ahad looked up at the walls of Masyaf's castle towering high above the village that rested halfway up the mountain. She took a breath enjoying the high mountain air. She was helped down by an assassin who died his head to her seeing her own rank.

"Welcome home Di." He said. He looked at her full belly and cocked his head. "Shall I fetch a donkey for you?"

She smiled a little. "Yes. I do not think as fat as I am that I can manage more that a dozen steps on my own."

He nodded and went to fetch one as she looked about the area.

It felt different. It had an odd feel. It was hard to describe. It was not how home had felt before, though then again it had been nearly a year since she had been here.

The assassin came and lifted her onto the sturdy back of the beast. A blanket was there. She reached forward to hold the mane as he led the animal up the winding path toward the castle. She watched as they passed villagers and she wondered if the one called Mary who had born Jesus had felt this way.

She hissed feeling a pain. She gritted her teeth. It was harder than before.

Once at the castle, the assassin helped her to her feet. She thanked him and walked the last few steps into her home. She had been born here, but she strangely felt like an outsider.

Assassins within bowed to one of her rank, but watched her as she made her way to the Master's study. He was here, naturally and he looked at her as she walked in and bowed her head.

"Oh my child!" He greeted. He walked to her. "It is well you are here."

She blinked. "Why?" She then bent over suddenly, crying out.

Al Mualim smiled. "Ah, your child is wishing to join us. The first in our new world."

"New world?" She asked straightening. "Those are Templar words, not ours." She said.

"Different means to the same goal. I said as much to your brother child."

He took her arm and led her toward airy room. The day was warm and the cooling breeze helped her calm.

She looked as she saw assassins about. "What have you done?"

He lifted the treasure he held in his hands and it glowed, pulsing. She looked away, closing her eyes as she cried out again. She felt liquid running down her legs. Her waters had broken. This child was coming.

She shifted and the master noticed. "Well, well. It would seem the child is wishing to join us." He said gently lying her back. Yusuf came forward, his eyes heavy. "See that she is comfortable as the child comes." The master said. "I must deal with someone."

The master left.

The girl remained where she was looking at the older man as he set about doing tasks. She gasped and rose shaky to her feet and made for the door.

Yusuf moved, grabbing her, holding her tighter than his aged hands should have been capable. "What are you doing?" She panted.

"The Master is light." He murmured pulling her back toward the bed.

"What?"

"He is master of all. He will deliver us."

She shivered. Templars wanted a new world. The master had made it reality. She growled, turning in his arms. "Let me go!"

"You will see. The master will return and show you the way."

"I am sorry, old friend." She said softly as she lifted her left hand and drove her hidden blade into his neck.

He gasped, eyes flashing a moment as his connection the master had over him was severed. He looked at her in shock, but then dropped to the earth, blood staining the tiles. The girl gasped as she moved to the door as another pain took her.

She looked about and moved to find a safer place. She needed to find somewhere safe to deliver and then travel to warn her brother of the master being the evil one.

She panted as she moved, fighting through the pain in her limbs and back. She left small flecks of blood on the white flagstones of the fortress as she moved about, avoiding assassins who were clearly under the master's spell, and trying to find a place.

There seemed to be no one who could help her. She took a breath to calm her mind. She needed to think and collect items. She moved carefully to seek out medical stores she would need. The baby would come soon. She felt it shifting.

She could do this…

ZzZ

Altair had ridden hard to Masyaf after facing and defeating Robert de Sable in hand to hand combat. Robert was an expert swordsman, but played by the rules of chivalry, at least while Richard the Lionheart watched them in their fight to the death to determine whose cause was just.

Altair had won and Richard moved to see to Saladin who was attacking. Altair had ridden hard to come to Masyaf. As he arrived he noticed the villagers were listless, walking about without apparent tasks.

Strange.

What had happened?

"Hold friend." He said to one. "What has happened?"

"Gone to see the master."

"Was it the Templars? Did they attack again?"

"They walk the path."

"What path? What are you talking about?"

"Toward the light."

"Speak sense." Altair said stepping closer.

"There is only what the master shows us. This is the truth."

"You've lost your mind!"

"You too will walk the path. Or you will parish. This the master commands."

"It was Al Mualim, was it not? What has he done to you?"

"Praise be to the master! For he had led us to the light."

Altair looked toward the castle. "A'sha!" He gasped. What if this had happened to his sister? Or worse. What if she had fought him?

He moved quickly passing through the innocents of the village. Once nearing the fortress, assassins came forward. Altair tried to avoid doing them harm, but they had no such compunction. They charged him, making ready to kill him.

Altair fought off the first wave, but the second was ready. He lifted his blade ready to fight, but then as he was surrounded, several of the men fell dead about him while others fled.

He looked up on the ridge above and saw Malik with his men as well as Jabal, the Bureau leader from Acre.

"Altair! Up here!" Malik called to him.

Altair ran to him and then smiled at his friend in brother-in-law. "You picked a fine time to arrive."

"So it seems." Malik said. "Is A'sha with you?"

"No." Altair said looking about. "I have not seen her."

Malik swallowed. "Her time was close. I worry for her and now this."

"Guard yourself well, brother, Al Mualim has betrayed us."

"Yes. Betrayed his Templar allies as well."

"How do you know?"

"After we spoke I returned to the ruins beneath Solomon's Temple. Robert had kept a journal. Filled its pages with revelations. What I read there broke my heart, but it also opened my eyes. You were right, Altair, all along our master has used us. We were not meant to save the Holy Land, but deliver it to him. He must be stopped."

"Be careful Malik. What he has done to the others he will do to us given the chance. You must stay far from him."

"What would you propose? My blade arm is still strong and my men remain my own. It would be a mistake not to use us."

"Distract these thralls then. Assault the fortress from behind, if you can draw their attention away from me, I might Al Mualim."

"I will do as you ask Di." Malik said.

"The men we face, their minds are not their own. If you can avoid killing them…"

"Yes. Though he had betrayed the tenants of the Creed, it does not mean we must as well. I will do what I can."

"It is all I ask." Altair looked upwards. "If you find my sister. Keep her safe. Safety and peace brother."

"Your presence will deliver us both." Malik said put his fist over his heart and bowing to Altair. He then signaled his men and they moved down the hill.

Altair took a breath.

Now to face the master.

ZzZ

Malik and his men were successful in distracting the thralls. He moved about, but then froze as he heard a cry from a stable. It was not the cry of an animal, but a woman.

He moved into the stable looking about for who had made the sound. The cry was from pain. None of those whose minds had been taken cried out.

He walked along and found an open stable with fresh hay lying there. He took a breath as he saw a woman on her hands and knees, head down, back arched as she cried. The back of her white robes was stained red with blood and other fluids.

He moved to her side. She looked up, face lined with pain, straw in her hair as she looked up, flexing her hand with her hidden blade.

Malik blocked the blow easily, holding her wrist as she struggled only a moment, but he knew her face.

"A'sha!" He cried. He was happy to see she had kept her mind, but that presented another problem. She was in labor to bring their child into the world without another with her. He knelt in the straw as she relaxed her arm and the hidden blade retracted as she panted in pain and relief at seeing him.

"Malik." She whispered.

"It is all right." He said.

She took a breath. "I…" She sighed and looked up as his men came to him. She smiled a little at them. "Well, the help arrived it seems."

Malik took a breath. "We need fresh water and blankets." He said. "Can we hold them at bay from here?"

"Yes." His men nodded.

"Good." Malik said. "This little one is determined to come in the middle of this war."

Two of his men went to stand guard. The other two went to fetch water and blankets.

Malik watched his wife roll to her back. "Malik. You need…to check for the head. I feel it. Is it close?"

He blinked. He only had basic training in field medicine, but he realized he had no other option than to help his medic wife deliver the child. He let his hand run down her leg to where it joined. He could feel the blood and fluid there. "What am I feeling for?" He asked.

"The head. Should be solid, pushing to come out."

He took a breath and felt. A contraction hit and she bent forward with a cry. He felt something there, pressing against his hand. It was solid. Yes. A head! "Yes! It is there. What do I do?"

She nodded as she sat up straighter and panted. "I must push it out." She said.

One of the men, Cemil, knelt beside her. He gently pressed a cool cloth to her brow and moved behind her, putting himself between the stall wall and her body. He pulled her back bodily to him, his legs to the side of her own. He nodded to Malik. "We will help her through this Di."

"Do you know what to do?" Malik asked.

"I just watched with my sister. One of us must help her. The other must see to the child."

Malik nodded. He looked over and saw Jabal watching wearily. He stood ready to be the last line of defense for his leader and lady if need be, but he was also fascinated by the birth.

"When the shoulders come, you will have to turn it Malik, guide it out." A'sha hissed as she gripped the arms of the assassin holding her.

He grimaced at the force she had in her grip, but nodded to Malik. As the next pain came, her pressed her forward, lifting her legs and helping her bear down. Malik was amazed at how quickly it progressed. Labor normally took hours and this was happening in minutes. It meant his poor wife had been in labor for some time.

He reached and gently turned the shoulders as he had been directed, guiding one free and then the other. He then reached, supporting the neck as the baby came free with the next contract and him pulling slightly.

The baby shivered in the cool of the stable.

"It's not crying…what do I do?" Malik asked in a panic. "The cord is about his neck!"

"Is it blue?"

"No. Pink, but…"

"It is fine. It can breathe. It is just resting from the journey."

"What?" He asked as he lifted the cord from his neck. He looked at the thick mop of blood stained hair, the thin boned body as it tucked up not liking the temperature outside the womb.

A'sha took a breath, panting from her efforts as she moved to her knees and smiled as Malik looked almost panicked at the baby on the blanket. "Birth is hard on them too." She smiled.

She bent and used her mouth to suck the fluid from the mouth and nose. She spat to the side as Malik wiped the body and smiled seeing it was a boy as his foot moved in response as he took a deep breath and whimpered, opening his eyes to try to focus about him.

"A son." He whispered. "You gave me a son."

She smiled and nodded as he pressed a kiss somewhere on her face. She then bent, using thin string to tie off the umbilical cord. She then used her blade to slice the connection between herself and the child.

Jabal stepped forward with a thin blanket to swaddle the infant. He looked down at the lady. He had never been so close to a birth. It was amazing how strong the mother looked, though weary from her labors. He wondered if it were always so.

The baby whimpered and A'sha wrapped it to keep it warm and then sighed, collapsing for a moment. She waved off Cemil who went to her. "I'm fine. Let me rest." She said softly.

He nodded allowing her to lay back a moment. She still had pains though not as severe.

Some moments later the afterbirth came from her. Cemil moved to clean the bloody straw and the afterbirth to be disposed of later.

The two guards came in. "The thralls have left the area. Some of them seemed to be no longer controlled Di." One said.

Malik nodded. "Do any of you have extra clothing?" He asked as he moved to where his wife lay, curled about the child she had borne. She was not asleep, but was resting.

"Yes." Cemil nodded. He moved to his pack and opened it handing the Rafiq the clothing. They would be large on her, but they would have to do.

All the men except for Malik stepped outside. Malik helped her dress and he looked at her. "Can you walk, Habititi?" He asked. "For a short while?"

She nodded. "I can walk." She said feeling the tightness in her loins, but it seemed to loosen as she moved. Malik moved, lifting his son in his arms. The baby's eyes flashed opened, but then relaxed, still not hungry enough to wail for the breast.

Mailk nodded to the group.

They needed to find Altair.

ZzZ

Altair had made his way to the gardens of the fortress. Al Mualim had called them Paradise before. He looked about wondering how he would face the master when suddenly he found his body surrounded by light. He could not move. He was in pain as it held him.

"No!" He cried spinning about. "What is happening?" He struggled in the grasp of the treasure. Above him walked Al Mualim on the balcony holding the artifact.

"So the student returns."

"I've never been one to run." Altair said defiantly.

Al Mualim chuckled. "Never been one to listen either."

"I still live because of it!"

"What will I do with you?"

"Let me go."

"Oh, Altair. I hear the hatred in your voice, feel its heat. Let you go, now that would be unwise."

"Why are you doing this?"

"I found proof."

"Proof? Proof of what?"

"Proof that nothing is true and everything is permitted." Al Mualim lifted the Apple. "Come destroy the betrayer." He said. "Send him from this world."

Altair looked. He was again facing the nine men he had killed.

His systematically dealt with them all. He took a breath and then gasped as he was again held by the light of the treasure. He growled. "Face me or are you afraid." He barked.

"I have stood before a thousand men. All of them superior to you." Al Mualim said. He had come down to the terrace above the water garden where he held Altair prisoner. "And all of them dead by my hand." He then smiled as he nodded woman who stepped forward.

Slight and in dark assassin robes, her head was bent as she stepped forward, arms out stretched revealing two hidden blades. She moved remarkably easily that belayed her swollen belly. Her head lifted and she smiled, eyes gleaming at Altair as she crossed her arms and then dropped them to her sides, ready to battle him.

"No!" Altair gasped. He could not fight her. Not A'sha. Not his sister. She was pregnant, her belly showed under her robes, jutting out as she ducked catlike before him.

"It is time to let the mouse show she is truly a cobra. Show this fool what is truly means to be an assassin, my child." Al Mualim told her.

She had cocked her head. "Yes, master." She said, voice like ice.

Altair found himself freed with just enough time to dodge her attack. He blinked. "A'sha. It is me!" He begged. "Stop this."

She snap-rolled, on one knee, she hissed. She lifted her hand before her, blade gleaming as the eyes behind it from beneath her hood.

Altair blinked. That was a maneuver she could not do pregnant. It was impossible to move that agilely with a child in her womb. She did nothing to protect it.

He then moved parrying her attack, but she still marked him, cutting his upper arm. Superficial it still stung. He looked at her. If she was an illusion how was she able to cause him pain?

He then circled her as she did him. She had other weapons, but did not use them. She had her twin hidden blades, something Altair had never seen before. It was actually a beautiful idea, but…

She charged again and he side stepped, twirling and knocking her to the earth, flat on her stomach. She growled and rolled to her feet.

Altair nodded grimly. This was not his sister being controlled by Al Mualim. This was another illusion. She would have been in too much pain to rise had that truly been her.

He then went on the offensive and attacked, gaining the upper hand. He knocked her hands away from him and then buried his own hidden blade in her throat. She looked at him, eyes wide in surprise and then dropped to the earth, and disappeared as the others had.

Al Mualim stood near, watching.

"Where is she?" Altair asked, held again.

"Safe. Do you honestly think I would harm her? She will birth the first assassin to my new order."

Altair growled. "Where is she?"

"Above, laboring."

Altair blinked. He had been around laboring women. They cried out in pain for hours. He had heard nothing. Was the old man lying or was the Apple muffling her cries?

Altair hissed. "Come then. Fight me."

"I am not afraid."

"Prove it." Altair said, defiant again.

"What could I possibly fear?" The master asked as the Apple shone and then made copies of himself before Altair. "Look at the power I command."

Again, Altair was in a fight for his life with multiple foes. He blinked and then found his sixth sense, something he had often used to find a target and see their intentions, now of use to find the real Al Mualim among the phantoms.

At last it was he and his mentor again and they faced each other.

Altair growled being held again.

"Have you any final words?" The master asked him.

"You lied to me. Called Robert goal foul when you all along it was yours as well."

"I have never been much good at sharing." The master agreed.

"You will not succeed. Others will find the strength to stand against you."

"Like your sister. With a child I can easily control her. However, this is why so long as men have free will there can be no peace."

"I killed the last man who as such." Altair said quietly, still defiant.

"Bold words, boy! But just words."

"Then let me go. I will put words into action."

Al Mualim laughed at that.

"Tell me _master_ , why did you not make me like the other assassins. Why allow me to retain my mind?"

"Who you are and what you do are twined too tight together. To rob you of one would deprive me of the other and those Templars had to die." He sighed. "But the truth is, I did try. In my study when I showed you the treasure. But you are not like the others. You saw through the illusion. So did your sister."

"Illusion?"

"That is all it has ever done." Al Mualim said in amusement. "This Templar treasure. This piece of Eden. This word of God. Do you understand now? That sea was never parted. Water never turned to win and staves did not turn to snakes. It was this. Illusions. All of them."

"What you plan is no less an illusion. To force men to follow you against their will."

"Is it any less real than the phantoms the Saracens and the Christians follow now? Those craven gods who retreat from this world so that men may slaughter one another in their names? They live amongst an illusion already. I am simply giving them another. One that demands less blood."

"At least they choose these phantoms."

"Oh do they? Aside from the occasional convert or heretic."

"It is not right."

"Ah, and now logic has left you. In it's place you embrace emotion. I am disappointed."

"What is to be done then?"

"You will not follow me and I cannot compel you."

"And you refuse to give up this evil scheme."

"It seems then that we are at an impasse."

"No! We are at an end."

"I will miss you Altair. You were my very best student." The master said, moving into an attack position.

Altair took a breath as the Apple released him. He then focused. The pair dueled. The old man surprised Altair with how quickly the man could move, but soon, Altair had the upper hand and he mortally wounded the master.

He knelt beside the old man, looking at him. The Apple rolled away from him.

Al Mualim looked at him. "Impossible. The student does not defeat the teacher." He said breathing heavily.

"La shay' haqiqah, koulo shay' moumkin." Altair intoned. The Creed in Arabic.

"So it seems." The old man agreed. "You have won then. Go claim your prize."

"You held fire in your hand old man. It should have been destroyed."

"Destroy the only thing capable of ending the crusades and creating true peace. Never."

"Than I will." Altair said.

"We will see about that." The Old Man said and then his eyes closed forever.

Altair took a breath and rose slowly to his feet, ignoring the minor cuts on his body as he looked down at the body before him. "Forgive me for this mentor. But the Apple corrupted you. And through you, it would have corrupted us. For us to live, you had to die."

He looked at the Apple as it shimmered and then showed an orb with many points sparking upon it.

He stared at it and then he heard footfalls. He looked to the side as Malik came to him, stopping and looking at the spectacle before him, holding a small bundle in his arm. His men were behind him. Between them stepped A'sha, alive, well, pale, but happy looking.

She came to her brother's side, looking back at the mentor before she touched his arm. "Brother?" She asked softly.

"It is over." He said softly.

She nodded and took a breath, faltering a moment, weakened. He caught her in his arms and looked at her curiously as he lifted her, her arm about her shoulders. He looked at Malik and heard a soft coo from the bundle as it moved a little. Malik looked down and smiled lightly as a small arm lifted upwards, moving in the awkward way of someone who still did not know how all their limbs worked yet. It fussed only a little.

Suddenly her swoon against him perfect made sense.

She had just now given birth.

He looked down at her as she looked at the orb before them in wonder. He held her close and sighed feeling relieved that she was here, safe, with her family and had safely delivered her child.

"What is it, Altair? What does it mean?" She asked, voice soft and strained.

"I do not know, sister." He said, eyes lifting to follow her own. "I do not know."


	15. The Master's Wake

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 15 – The Master's Wake

Altair gently set his sister on a bench. She smiled at him a little as he scooped the Apple up carefully. He nodded to Malik as the man moved to his wife and Altair disappeared into the fortress.

Malik gently handed his son to the boy's mother to nurse. She sighed and opened the robe. The small boy blinked, looking about. A'sha gently caressed the baby's cheek with her heavy breast. The baby's mouth opened as he turned his head, questing the nipple instinctively as he whimpered a little. He found his aim and A'sha let out a soft gasp of surprise.

Her husband, when his mouth had been there was nothing like the relentless mouth of a hungry infant demanding to be fed, latching on like a lamprey.

Malik had his arm about his wife, sitting close in quiet possession, watching the infant feed for the first time in silence.

Altair returned to them. He nodded to Malik's men. "I have need of you."

"Of course." Jabal nodded.

Cemil bowed his head to the master assassin. "We will help you."

"I need you to build a pyre, away from the castle, on the bluff." Altair said.

Jabal was uncertain with his request, but nodded, taking two of the men with him to do as he was asked.

The other two waited, watching, waiting.

Altair came to his sister. He sat on the other side of her. She had pulled her clothing back to how it should have been. Malik had burped the young infant, now less than an hour old. He had wrapped him in his warm cocoon. He was sleepy now, eyes heavy as his father rocked him gently against his breast to keep him calm.

Altair looked over. "May I?" He asked.

Malik smiled and nodded, standing and moving to pass the bundle to Altair. The young master assassin took the boy in his arms as he had been shown when he had held A'sha and other babies.

A'sha smiled looking down as the baby settled into sleep after making a huge yawn that amused his uncle.

"He is beautiful, sister. What do you call him?"

"Tazim al-Sayf." Malik answered.

Altair nodded. "A fine name." He said.

"What is to be done, Altair?" Malik asked.

"I have need of messages to be taken. I know your wife had just given birth, but can I ask you to travel to Jerusalem of Al Mualim's dead?"

Malik nodded. "You honor me."

"I have need of your thoughts and abilities, Malik. Will you return to your sister and infant as well as me?" Altair asked.

"It will be done, Mentor." Malik said bowing his head.

"I have no claim to that title yet, Rafiq."

Malik shook his head. "I can think of no one better, brother. To lead us out of this time to our future."

"Your words give me strength brother. Thank you."

A'sha nodded. "I can travel as well, brother. I would just need to…"

"You are a new mother." Altair said. "I expect you to grow stronger and help your infant to do so also." Altair said. He nodded to Malik. "He will return to you soon and I promise he will be near. I plan to rebuild out Order and make it stronger." He said.

His sister nodded.

Malik took a breath and then kissed his wife fully on the mouth. A deep kiss full of passion and longing, but then he turned to leave her, calling for a mount.

Altair looked down at his nephew once more. He lifted a tiny curled hand to his lips and kissed it. "He will never know such hatreds, sister."

"I am sure of it." She answered. "Peace be upon you Mentor."

"And with you, sister." He said shifting to put the sleeping child in her arms once more. He lifted a hand to his sister's cheek in affection.

He rose once more to his feet and walked to the body of the Master. He had slain him to save the order, but part of him still felt the sting of betrayal in killing the man he thought of as a father. Perhaps he always would.

He looked back at his sister with the newest member of the Order in her arms. She was silently watching him. At six and twenty, her brother would take on the mantle of the Order and lead them. She had admiration for him, but also worry on her brow for what lay ahead.

Cemil returned to them some moments later. He stepped to Altair who was still beside the Mentor. "Is it truly over? Is that sorcerer dead?" He asked.

"He was no sorcerer." Altair said calmly. "Just an ordinary man in command of illusions." He looked back at the man. "Have you prepared the pyre?"

"I have." Cemil said stepping forward. "But Altair…Some of the men will not stand for such a thing."

Altair nodded a little and sighed. "Let me handle it." He said. He knelt down, lifting the body into his arms. The old man was frailer than he appeared to be, light in the assassin's arms as he shifted the dead weight to carry his mentor with all due respect. He looked at Cemil. "Are you fit to travel?"

"Well enough, yes." Cemil answered. Altair noted he was favoring his side. A cracked rib most likely.

"I have asked Malik to travel to Jerusalem with news of Al Mualim's death. Will you ride for Acre and do the same?"

"Of course." Cemil said and bowed to the new mentor before her turned to leave.

Altair looked back at his sister. She was rising gingerly to her feet holding her new son close. She was clearly still tender from the birth, but pushed herself knowing the importance of this. He was grateful.

He took a breath and nodded. The silent look between them. She was unsure what he meant to do, but she would support him nonetheless. As always, he could count on her support. She and Malik would be his closest allies and would aid him with the transition of power. More, they would help him keep it.

He walked silently bearing his burden, his sister walking solemnly behind him, though her steps were cautious due to still being sore. However, as they walked together, as he looked back at her, he noticed it was becoming easier as tight muscles eased with use.

Altair looked up as an assassin came to him. He inwardly cringed at seeing who it was, but kept his face passive as he paused on his way. His sister moved to flank him, watching the newcomer wearily.

"What has happened here?" Abbas demanded.

"Our mentor deceived us all. The Templars corrupted him." Altair said looking at him.

"Where is your proof?" Abbas asked, eyes narrowing as he looked at the body. He then looked at A'sha and blinked. "A life and a death together." He said. "How did this happen?"

"Walk with me Abbas and I will explain." Altair said quietly stepping around him to continue.

Abbas turned as well. "And if I find your answers wanting?"

Altair paused to look up at him. "Than I will talk until you are satisfied." Altair took a breath to steady himself as Abbas fell into step with him.

Abbas again looked at A'sha who had her head bent in reverent respect and sadness at the loss of the man as she saw as a father and mentor.

Altair took a breath. "Do you remember the artifact that recovered from Robert de Sable in Solomon's Temple."

"The artifact you were sent to retrieve, but others deliver?" Abbas asked.

"Yes." Altair's eyes narrowed at the barb. He then took a breath to continue. "It is a Templar tool. The Apple of Eden. It can conjure illusions and control men's minds. A deadly weapon."

"And you believe Al Mualim fell under it's spell?"

"I do." Altair said looking at him. "Today he used the Apple to enslave Masyaf. You saw that yourself."

"I do not know what I saw."

"Listen Abbas. The Apple is safe in Al Mualim's study. When I am finished here, I will show you all I know."

They continued to the low rock outcrop above the town. The pyre had been set there. Assassins and villagers stood some fifteen feet below, looking up curiously.

A'sha, at a nod from her brother, moved to join them, to bear witness to what her brother had planned. He saw the flash of realization in her eyes at what he was going to do, but still, she trusted him enough not to utter a word against him.

Altair laid the Mentor on the pyre. He then took a torch that had been placed near it and ignited the fat wood and the master's robes. In moments the wooden frame was alight and surrounded the body of the mentor. The flames licked at flesh even as Abbas gasped in horror.

"Altair! No!" Abbas gasped.

Several below were muttering about this act of sacrilege. The Levant buried their dead. To burn a body made it so the soul of the one who died would not be able to join Paradise. It was strictly taboo in the countries that had been touched by Islam, something that set them apart from the pagans who did burn their dead. Though the assassins did not practice, it still was part of their culture to bury their dead.

"I must know he cannot return." Altair said.

"But this is not our way. To burn a man's body is forbidden!" Abbas protested.

"Defiler!" A man shouted from below.

Altair turned and noticed the crowd had grown.

A'sha looked about her at the hostility.

Altair stepped around the pyre and lifted a placating hand. "Hear me out! This body could be one of Al Mualim's phantoms. I must be certain!"

"Lies!" Abbas cried moving to face him. "All your life you have made a mockery of our Creed. You bend the rules to suit your will. While belittling and humiliating those about you."

"Restrain him!" Came from below.

Altair looked down to track the voice. A'sha did as well. Someone to her left.

An assassin moved to A'sha's side, recognizing her. "Do you not hear him? Al Mualim is bewitched."

Abbas moved behind Altair, between him and the pyre. In a sudden fit of rage he pushed Altair over the edge. Altair cried out in shock, but recovered enough to land so he would not break bones.

Almost instantly, he realized his error at throwing Altair to the wolves below. He gasped and fled the area, leaving Altair and his sister to their fates.

A'sha cried out going to her brother's side. He had landed well enough and pulled himself upright even as he looked at the assassins about him. Several were drawing weapons.

"Brothers!" A'sha gasped. "Please…" She begged. "See reason!"

"We will not be part of your coup Altair!" said one.

"No we will not!" said another.

"He did not do it for a coup, but to save us." Said another.

So the crowd divided, Altair thought. He saw the danger and quickly pulled A'sha behind him as she drew his sword. "I understand your anger, brothers, but would you forget the Creed and harm an innocent?" He asked. "This child is newly born." He pleaded that they would see reason.

"She is your sister. She helped you in your coup." Someone said.

"How could she if she was giving birth?" Another asked.

"Indeed. That child is still so new it has blood on it."

"Blood is thicker than water. She walked here with him."

"That does not mean she is not innocent and the babe with her."

Two men attacked Altair. A'sha gasped as he parried first one and then the other, out stretching his arm to keep her behind him and out of harms way. Though he was weary from the battles he had faced due to his Mentor and his illusions, he found he had new strength at the idea of his sister and her innocent son dying because of a mob.

A'sha, now angry at her Order brother's false claims and having her child in danger, she growled. She laid her infant son down in a sheltered place and then turned to face the onslaught. Several brothers stopped fighting Altair and those who were backing him and back away, seeing the rage in her eyes.

Another, however, charged in and she jumped around her brother to met him, startling Altair as she attacked with ferocity. He moved to put her back behind him, but then paused. A mother lioness defending her own, he realized. She ducked, dodging a blow and then struck upwards with her hidden blade, killing the man.

"Who is next?" She demanded.

The group of attackers backed away to regroup. They had expected Altair to guard her and for him to be a calculated fighter. They had not counted on the angry she-wolf ready to tear them limb from limb.

Altair noticed the group of supporters for him had grown. A'sha stood beside him, twirling her blade, daring any to come forward, her hidden blade was still extended, blood dripping from both weapons.

Altair took a breath and then looked at her. "Tend to your child, sister." He murmured, again putting her behind him. She took a breath. She cleaned her blade, watching those before them wearily. Others stepped to stand before her beside Altair, forming a protective ring to guard her.

Her baby cooed softly, not waking, but moving in sleep. She smiled a little, calming as she lifted him to her breast to hold him tenderly. She rocked him, cooing back to ensure he slept.

Altair took a breath watching the ones who challenged them, but they now seemed to falter, unsure. Had he betrayed them?

"What did I tell you Altair?" Came from above them.

All turned to look.

On the guard tower roof. High above them was Abbas, holding the Apple. It swirled about him with yellow light.

"Abbas!" Altair cried. "Stop!"

The other assassins stopped fighting and blinked, watching.

"What did you thing would happen when you murdered our beloved mentor?"

"You loved Al Mualim less than anyone. You blamed him for all your misfortunes, even your father's suicide!"

"My father was a hero!"

"This is not the time to quarrel over the past. We have to decide what to do with that weapon!" Altair said lifting a placating hand.

"Whatever this artifact is capable of, you are not worthy to wield it!" Abbas shouted and pointed at Altair.

"No man is!" Altair said back.

"It is beautiful is it not?" Abbas said looking at it. He drew it closer to himself.

The light intensified. The other assassins drew back in fear. Altair looked at his sister and her innocent child. Suddenly, a ray of light shot out from the Apple, hitting Abbas. He cried out in pain and dropped backward into the tower. A ripple of energy rippled through the area. Altair wrapped himself bodily around his sister, putting his nephew between them.

He gasped a little in pain as it rolled over him as did many others, but his sister was protected and the child she held as well.

He looked at his sister. "I have to save him. The fool will die otherwise."

She looked at him and nodded, but then took hold of his arm. "Be careful!" She said.

He nodded and moved, climbing up the rock palisade and then ran to the tower. Another ripple caused him to pause, but then he got to the guard tower. Quickly he moved, scaling it, hiding under objects to guard against the numbing pain.

His sister had moved with the help of two assassins to a shelter and gasped as they stood, guarding her.

'What was that?" One asked.

"Are they dead?" Asked the other.

"No." A'sha said. "But now do you see what power it contains. What Altair was saving you from?"

"Yes." They said nodding.

Altair made it to Abbas, who had dropped the Apple. Altair lifted it, feeling the energy in his hand, but it did nothing to him other than flare in his hand as he turned to Abbas.

Abbas quivered nearby. "Forgive me. I did…not…know." And he passed unconscious.

Altair looked the Apple in his hand, lifting it before his face, looking at it as it flashed once, but then started to dim. "Have you anything to teach us, or would you lead us all to ruin?"

Altair put the Apple in his robes and went to Abbas.

He was weak, but would live fortunately.

And Altair would forgave him.


	16. Bringing Order From Chaos

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 16 - Building Order from Chaos

After ten days of hard riding, Malik returned to Masyaf. He was weary from the road and went to wash the dust from him and changed into robes of his Rafiq office.

There was a knock at the door. He opened it to reveal Altair.

"Mentor." Malik said bowing his head and putting his hand to his heart.

"Safety and peace, Brother." Altair said in greeting.

"Well enough." The other smiled. He then frowned noting the absence of his spouse.

Altair chuckled seeing the question in Malik's eyes. "She awaits us in the Master's study."

Relief was plain on Malik's face. "And my son?"

"With her I am sure. He is growing like a weed." Altair said. He was enjoying being an uncle. The child was well fed, well rested, and well loved. Altair was his uncle by blood, but this newest edition to the Assassin Order had many uncles to watch his path.

"He is but ten days old." Malik frowned. He had missed so much already.

"He has grown already. I am sure he will be either cradled to his mother's breast or in the sleeping cot." Altair said.

"They keep well then?" Malik asked. Not that he had a doubt. Altair would see his sister right no matter the cost to himself.

"To tell you true, I think I annoy her asking her that as much as I do." Altair said ruefully as they walked together.

Malik laughed outright at that.

They walked to together to the Master's Study. The sweet scent of incense was strangely calming to them both. Altair had set about taking on the mantle he had taken after Al Mualim's death. While many had thought he had led a coup, his followers, sister, and himself had made them see reason. He now had the support of his brotherhood.

There was only one more to deal with now that he had recovered. Abbas had been in the cells, but A'sha had seen to healing him after his ordeal with the Apple that had done him injury. She had treated his burns and his hurts with due skill and he had let her, though Altair had sent guards with her. He seemed now to be more collected, not wishing to incur wrath, least of all the new mentor's who held his life in his hands.

They entered study with the shelves of books and manuscripts, incense burners, and several who had gathered. The guards at the door saluted Altair and the Rafiq, watching with the aloofness they always had. Two more were before a long table that had been set in the open area of the study. The master's desk had been set back. Three chairs were there.

A'sha rose from the rightest chair that she had been occupying, a bowl chair. There was no mistaking her modified assassin's garb or her kohled blue eyes that looked out at them. Cowl lowered, her thick hair was braided in a severe style for action. Her face and body had lost of much the swelling already from her pregnancy, though she moved still with some hesitation, Malik noticed. She bowed her head as she lifted her hand to her heart to Altair, confirming to Malik that he had indeed become Mentor.

Altair walked behind the table and sat down in the center chair. Malik paused, but caught his wife's eye as she flicked her eyes to the vacant chair to the right side of her brother. He took a breath and walked and sat down, recovering in short order from the mark of confidence from Altair. A'sha smiled a little at him behind Altair's back. He noticed that the small sleeping hammock was there, the occupant hidden from view, but he knew his son was within sleeping.

Altair took a breath. "Abbas Sofian. You stand accused of causing slander and attempting to take a treasure that you had no claim to." He looked at his sister and then Malik. "We will judge you as a tribunal. How plead you?"

Abbas grunted. "Always one to enjoy making others feel below you."

"Abbas." A'sha spoke before her brother could rebuke the assassin. "That not what this is about and you know it well." Altair sat back letting her speak. It was for this reason why he had asked her to serve. Her more collected nature and fair judgement.

"And you have a woman seated with you. That has never been done in our order."

"She is the first assassin of our order." Altair said calmly. "Her sex makes her no less capable. I am within my rights as Mentor to judge and pass sentence on my own, but it was for your sake I brought two who are impartial to our past conflict."

"Impartial? One shares your blood." Abbas said.

"But she is a sister to us all." Malik said at last. "Come. What do you say in your defense?"

A'sha took a breath. "He was not alone in his feelings that Altair had tried a coup." She spread her hands. "To be honest, outwardly if one did not bother to heed reason, that was a natural conclusion."

Altair and Malik both looked at her and both nodded. A fair judgement.

"He and the others attacked us. They had cause to come after me, but to do you harm, a new mother with a fresh babe in your arms is almost an unforgivable violation of the first Tenant. It is the first for a reason. There is little to be gained with the death of innocents."

Malik listened. Altair had become far wiser over his year on the quest for the nine Templars.

A'sha lifted a hand. "But they did not take our lives." She said. "Thoughts are not action, Mentor."

"True." Altair said slowly. "You have exonerated him from the first, but what of the second charge? The theft that caused injury not only to himself, but others as well."

"Did you take it for any reason, Abbas?" Malik asked.

Abbas took a breath. "I thought Altair meant to do the order harm, had killed our beloved Mentor to have it." He said.

A'sha nodded. "You did not wish it for yourself?"

"I wished to keep it away from those who would do us harm."

Malik blinked. "It is a tool."

"A tool that only brings sorrow and misery in it's wake." Altair said firmly.

"What do you intend to do with it?" Malik asked.

"I am not on trial here." Altair said firmly.

"But it is a fair question and it ties into Abbas's fate." His sister said.

Altair nodded. "I intend to study and see what can be gained. The Mentor said I saw through the illusions. You do also sister. After I have learned all I can, I intend to destroy it to keep it from the Templar hands."

A'sha cocked her head. "And interesting gift it is then."

Altair nodded slowly. He sat back and the other two leaned in, whispering to him. They all three gestured. Abbas was amazed that the woman whom he was quick to judge being on the tribunal was his greatest ally.

The three shifted and Altair rose to his feet. "Do you have any final words before I pass sentence Abbas?"

Abbas straightened. "I have been a loyal assassin these many years. All my actions were to keep the brotherhood safe from harm. Judge as you will Altair."

Altair nodded. "As Mentor of the Order it passes to me to be the one in control, to maintain order, and teach. However, this does not mean that one cannot be forgiven for actions. Your motives were altruistic, not for personal gain, as mine were. As such I cannot take your life for disobedience to the tenants." He spread his hands. "You are forgiven your trespasses and you may remain in the order, Abbas. But, tread carefully. I so caution you. A call for the removal of a lawful leader is not only treason, but a betrayal the order."

Abbas took a breath and bowed his head. "Mentor."

And so Altair gained the respect of the Order for his ability to forgive action.

Altair began to reform the order. Assassins were allowed to love their children openly, giving them a cause to fight for. He also began to work with the second Tenant. The Assassins in their white robes were becoming recognizable, especially if there were no scholars. Al Mualim had made the order a whisper on everyone's lips. It was time to withdraw, train, and bring the Order back to itself.

He also began to change things within it. The removal of the ring finger, marking a Levantine Assassin for life made it harder to blend into the crowd. He was able to modify the hidden blade design. The original used a ring on the pinkie that would engage the mechanism that brought the blade forward from the hidden casing in a bracer. The blade was shaped that when the assassin closed his or her fist, the blade became an extension of them. He also called that full Master Assassins carried such a weapon, or those who had earned the right by deed.

Several months after Altair with the help of Malik and A'sha restored the Order, A'sha was sent to Alexandria to collect a document for her brother. She had with her two assassins, of lesser rank, in her charge.

The Saracens were not as careless with their treasures as the Templars had been. The fight that ensued was a blood bath with the three assassins surrounded and cutting down guards, fighting for their very lives until Al-Adil appeared. Saphadin, as he was called by the Crusaders, looked down at the three. He was both impressed and amazed at the work they had done.

He called down to them. "Assassins. Hold."

A'sha looked up as did the other two. She knew this man. This man was brother to Saladin and so was also her uncle.

"There is no need for you to die." The man continued.

A'sha looked at the two with her. "I am A'shadieeyah bint Umar-La'Ahad, Sister to Altair, Mentor of Masyaf." She looked at the two men with her. "Take me. Let my men go from here unharmed."

He looked at her. "A'shadieeyah. I know this name." He said.

One assassin looked at her. "No Di. They will kill you."

She shook her head. "No. He is a Saracen prince and the Sultan of the land we walk. I am sure he will see reason."

The sultan looked at her. "I wish to speak with you Assassin. You men may go." He waved.

Her men were shepherded away, protesting. She stood still, arms spread, her slight body streaked with gore from the fight as the blood of the sultan's men covered her and mixed with her own. She sheathed her sword as two palace guards before her. She nodded to them, wiping blood spatter from her mouth she walked with them, arms out in a non-threatening way as she walked, looking almost like a child between them.

She arrived in an airy room that overlooked the harbor and was pressed to her knees, but the sultan waved it off. "She is an honorable woman and part of the assassins. She will not kill me. I am not her target."

"For now." She said nodding.

She was allowed to rise. She watched as the sultan sat down. There was a water basin. She walked to it and looked at her reflection. She sighed and dipped her hands in and washed the blood from her face and hands.

She lifted a towel and then turned to the Sultan. "You know me how?"

"I heard of you from my brother Saladin. He saw you as a child, in tears, the day your father was executed."

A'sha twitched a little. She kept her hands in view and made no sudden moves noting there were eight guards watching her at a respectable distance, but were there.

"Which means…" He continued, "That you Khatun, are my niece by blood."

She nodded. "Yes. You are Saladin's brother, which makes you also my uncle through my mother Sitt al-Sham."

He looked at her face under her cowl. "Let me look at you."

She stepped forward and lifted her hands to lower her cowl, revealing her blue eyes, tattoos, and olive Syrian coloring of her father.

"How amazing Allah is." He said softly. "You have the look your mother." He said. "Your eyes. She had eyes like the sea also."

"Everyone tells me I look like Umar." She said. "Al Mualim told me once I had none of the look of Saladin."

"It is true. You look more of our mother and sister."

"But I am an assassin above all."

"There is little assassin in you other than your training." He said making a face. "It is a shame she never returned to us."

"Would you have taken her married as she was? A child at her skirts?"

He sighed. "I am more forgiving than Saladin ever was." He leaned back lifting grapes. "Which is why I have a proposition for you."

She cocked her head.

"My seat in Egypt has been taken by force. There is malcontent among the people. I will quell this in due time, but I ask for the assassins of the Levant to, if not aide me, to at least not become a problem."

"You wish a peace treaty. Like Saladin."

He nodded. "Yes. And what better messenger to your brother and leader than a Khatun of my dynasty."

She laughed. "I renounced my Saracen blood years ago."

He smiled a little. "It has not renounced you." He said flatly. "Come. Such an offer benefits us both and you know it."

"I must speak to my brother on these matters." She lifted a hand. "However, I came to steal a scroll. May I, as an act of good faith, bring it to him, to show you do not mean us ill."

He chuckled. "Spoken as a true ad-Din Ayyub." He said. "It is a wonder you are female. You have the mind of a diplomat." He lifted the scroll from beside him. "Your brother will find that he will need this one and the mate with it to divine what he has need." He said. "Return to me as soon as you can, Khatun. I would know you more." He looked at the guards. "See she passes through the city unmolested and unharmed."

She bowed her head and put her hand to her heart.

The mark of respect was not lost on the sultan as she took the scroll and took her leave.

ZzZ

A'sha was aware she was being followed out of the town, but they stopped at the city gate. The two assassins who had been with her looked up from where they had made a small camp near the city wall. They had been plotting how to gain her freedom or deliver her body to Altair, but she walked up to them, smiling.

"Di! How is this?" One asked. "We thought you dead."

"Truth be told, so did I." She said. "But fate has another plan for me." She sat down and looked at the meal they were cooking hungrily. "Come I have brought figs and fresh cheese. Tell me what happened to you after we parted."

They were about to speak when an Egyptian in travel clothing with a horse came to them. "Khutan." He bowed. "I am not armed." He said spreading his hands. One of the assassins confirmed this.

When she looked at him, face full of questions, he smiled. "I was sent by his majesty, the sultan Al-Adil, to speak with your master."

She nodded. "Come, sit friend." She offered.

He did so.

ZzZ

After a long seven-day ride, the three arrived back at Masyaf.

Altair himself greeted them and noticed the dried black blood on A'sha's robes as well as the others. He lifted an eyebrow in question at his sister who came to him carrying a waterproof map container.

"What has happened?" He asked. "Did you gain the artifact I need?" He asked.

She smiled. "I have done more than that, brother. I have made a peace treaty with Egypt." She nodded back to Benjamin behind her, an Egyptian born Jew who had a gift for language and diplomacy he had said.

Altair was amazed. "How did you manage all this?" He asked taking the container she held to him.

"The Khutan had the fortune of being born to the right family." Benjamin said.

Altair scoffed. "Of course. She is sister to me and one of my most loyal assassins."

"And no doubt one of the most beautiful." Benjamin said. He watched as A'sha stepped to the side as Malik appeared.

The Master Rafiq took a breath of relief at seeing her return, but he looked in concern at her robes. She shook her head to quell his fears and smiled at him as he enfolded her into his embrace, kissing her tenderly as he pulled her to him.

Benjamin nodded. "Shall we speak then Mentor?" He asked.

"Yes, but after my sister has washed and refreshed." Altair said looking at her as she walked into the fortress with Malik.

Altair nodded to his guest to join him for a meal. A'sha joined them later, with her husband, in fresh clothing, having seen her son who was now wet nursed after she had stopped producing milk due to her active training.

Her brother welcomed the talks with the Sultan of Egypt. He laid out his terms, which Benjamin accepted, meaning that the sultan was willing to agree to have the assassins at least as a passive ally even if they were not fully in a treaty contract. There would be peace between them.

Before his sister traveled back to Alexandria, he made her a master assassin for her ability to gain what he had sent her for, saved the lives of the assassins with her, and gained peace, without causing a death to her brothers. Altair had also gained his Master Assassin mantle through respect of the Mentor. Because she was his sister he had required her to pass a harder test, but she had passed the test and brought the Order glory and peace in the same token. No small task.

After celebrating becoming a Master Assassin, she dressed, as her brother, in the robes of a master assassin. She traveled to Egypt with her husband and son and were welcomed both as ally and family. Malik was surprised by this, but also grateful.

They dwelled there a month before returning to Masyaf. Malik and A'sha had both browned in the sun of the land of the Nile and birthplace of the Assassins. A'sha while there had traveled the Nile, seeing sights and also finding sacred texts she herself would copy at a later time.

It was a good and full time for the order. A great time of peace, learning, and broadening horizons.

A Golden Age of sorts.


	17. Another Marriage

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 17 – Another Marriage

Two years passed.

A year of peace for the assassins.

A'sha welcomed her second child, a daughter named Hatice, with Malik, her brother, and three new assassin wives. It was an easy deliver as such things went and Altair held his niece as he brought her to welcome her to his Assassins.

When he returned her to nurse at her mother's breast, Malik had gone to see to Tazim, his oldest who had been taken into the care of his brother Fareem's family as his mother labored. Altair found an odd peace watching the tender scene. A weary mother with a look of serene ecstasy being able to be easy after a birth and her child well.

"Oh, Altair." She said looking up at him. "I wish this for you." She said softly.

He smiled and leaned over her legs looking down at his suckling niece affectionately. "One day perhaps. For now I am content to be an uncle."

"Adha would not want you pining forever. She would want you happy brother." He sighed and looked down. She cupped his face and made him look at her. "If I can be loved after all my trials, you will find a woman worthy of you. I have no doubt."

He had smiled and kissed her brow as Malik returned with Tazim to meet his new sibling. The boy was much as Altair had been with A'sha which amused the adults as he went to play with a toy that his uncle Fareem had carved for him.

Fareem himself was now the Rafiq of Jerusalem as Malik now served as Master Rafiq and Head cartographer of the assassins. A'sha herself had become more devoted to copying illuminated texts, an art skill she shared with her brother, who had his attentions on making his Order strong. She also kept her poison arts and healing arts, making her a sought-after midwife in the area as well. This public image of an assassin made the Assassin's human, and as a Master and leader in her own right, she gained much respect for them.

Altair had learned that respect made the people more apt to follow than intimidation and fear. Though their goal struck fear in the heart of many, the day to day activities of the assassins made them good neighbors.

Malik would settle disputes in a just manner gaining a reputation to be a good and just arbitrator. Altair also had this reputation as the Assassin Order grew in numbers and strength. Having the locals trust them enough to live with them as neighbors and not outright fear them was of benefit to all.

A few months after the birth of his niece, he went on a mission, to find clarity and expand the influence of his Order, leaving Masyaf in the capable hands of his Master Assassin sister and Malik. He traveled through the Holy Land, seeing the influence grow.

He traveled to Cyrus and discovered a Templar archive there. Through his friendships, he managed to drive the Templars away. The freed Cypriots offered Cyrus as a base to the assassins, something Altair greatly appreciated and put Markos, a former pirate turned assassin in charge.

It was in Limassol where he married Maria, the woman who had stood in for Robert de Sable. The Englishwoman had found herself disillusioned by the Templar calling and so had left the order and joined Altair. He had encountered her several times in his travels, each time becoming more enchanted by her and her masculine ways that he no doubt felt repelled other men. He saw a strength and beauty, like his sister. He had professed his love as they traveled on a boat together traveling to Turkey. They had become lovers.

As they returned to Masyaf, Maria looked up at the towering spires from the gentle mare she rode. Her belly was large and full. Altair had insisted he bring her home to the Order's home at Masyaf. There she would be able to safely deliver their child with the help of A'sha.

A'sha was there to greet them. It had been two years since her brother had returned, by he sent letters during his progress, in part to prevent his sister from coming to look for him. He had found his way and after looking into the Apple, he had learned much about the world.

Now married, he was a new man at 30, a child on the way, and leader of the Assassin order.

His sister welcomed him with open arms. As she embraced him, kissing his cheeks as she leaned up, he noted, stepping back, to look at her. Ever a beauty and now at twenty-five, she had grown into her own.

He smiled then seeing Malik come out from the fortress with four-year-old Tazim running forward. On his arm was the dark hair beauty that was Hatice whose blue eyes missed nothing. She was sucking her thumb nervously, not remembering the tall stranger in a cowl.

Tazim, however, remembered his uncle and shot between his parents and latched himself onto the Mentor's knees. "Up! Up!" He demanded in his high-pitched voice.

Altair smiled at his sister who flushed in embarrassment. "He missed you." She said recovering as Altair bent and lifted the boy into his arms to hug him.

"Oh Tazim, my little cub!" Altair said smiling as he tossed in the air playfully. He then set him down. "I have someone for you to meet." He said. He took his sister's hand and led her to Maria who had been helped down from her mount by an assassin. She had stood back, watching her husband as he greeted his family. As he came with another woman, her jealousy flared, but the woman had the look of him. A softer more feminine version of him, and yet she had a strength to her, Maria could sense it. Who was she then to be so close to Altair that he would kiss her cheeks and hold her other children.

"Maria." Altair said taking her hand as he let go of his sister. "My sister, A'sha. Her husband Malik al-Sayf. Their two children Tazim and Hatice." He said beaming at his niece as she toddled over, watching him curious. She peaked around her mother's robes that moved with the breeze. "My family, my wife, Maria."

A'sha's look of shock and then happiness made the journey worth it. He had not spoken of it in his letters. She beamed and walked to the other woman. "Welcome, Maria, to Masyaf!" She said.

Malik bowed to her and smiled. "Welcome."

Maria took a breath her hand going to her brow. Altair noticed and his touched her arm. "Are you well, Maria?"

"Yes, just warm." She said.

"Oh, come with me, you must be famished and hot from the ride." A'sha said taking her in hand.

Malik and Altair watched the women walk together into the fortress speaking together in the way women did when they became fast friends for life.

Malik smiled at Altair as his son went to follow his mother and the new lady. Hatice stayed and moved, looking up at Altair from where she stood, thumb in her mouth, big blue eyes watchful. "You did well my friend."

"It is strange. I knew I would marry her from the first time I saw her in Jerusalem. Now she is my wife and we will welcome child soon."

"Fate has a funny way with things."

Altair then knelt down, bending his impressive height to look at his niece who squeaked in surprise and tried to back away. She tripped on her own feet and landed on her bottom. Tears came to her eyes and Altair chuckled and lifted her into his arms.

"There, there little Hatagem. I will not bite." He said smiling at her from his cowl. "I am your uncle. I was at your birth. You were mere months when I left to travel. You have grown well." He looked at Malik as the girl settled at his calm voice and looked at her father as she laid her head on her uncle's shoulder. "It is well we are assassins for when boys start to notice her."

Malik chuckled ruefully. "I was thinking the same Mentor."

ZzZ

Inside, A'sha had seated her new sister-in-law at a table in her airy study in the master's tower.

"You really do not have to trouble yourself." Maria protested as A'sha poured her mint tea and offered her warm scones.

A'sha laughed. "Please. It is nice to do a task that is a bit feminine."

Tazim came in and looked for the scones he could smell. A questing hand reached up trying to find them. This caused Maria to laugh and she reached pulling him into her lap. She rewarded him with a scone as she got one for herself. A'sha dropped into a seat across from her.

Maria gently played with Tazim's thick curly hair. "Such lovely children. Altair is certainly fond of them. Are you thinking to have more?"

A'sha smiled. "Yes. I have just begun to suspect I am I expecting again." She said as she devoured a scone happily. "I love these. Just a hint of cinnamon and honey."

Maria took a bite of the scone. "Did you make them?" She let the delicate flavor roll about her tongue as she sighed in pleasure. She had not had something so good since she had left England.

"Heavens no. I am a Master of many things, but baking pastries is not one of them. I can make a meal to survive on, but something as tasty as this? Never."

"You have the same look as Altair, same bones and coloring, but your face is fairer, hair more like the Saracens."

"I am his half-sister. We shared a father." A'sha said.

"Umar."

"Yes." A'sha looked at her. "And you are not French by the sound of you. Gaul? You are too fair for an Italian or Spaniard."

"I am English."

"English?" A'sha cocked her head.

"Yes, an island nation to the north west of France."

A'sha cocked her head. "I will have to have Malik show me on one of his maps." She said thoughtfully.

"Did you leave any for us?" Altair's amused asked coming into the room unannounced and quickly dropping into a seat, one arm cradling the now sleeping Hatice to his chest. He took a scone as his sister poured him tea and her husband also.

Malik sat down and served Maria another before he took one.

"What is the occasion?" Altair asked reaching for another, relishing the treats.

"Is my brother returning home not occasion enough to warrant them Mentor?" A'sha teased.

"I suppose it is." He said beaming back at her.

ZzZ

After the evening meal and Maria was settled, Altair went for a walk on the battlements. He was surprised to see A'sha there, looking over the canyons. He looked at her in her white robes, the moonlight splashing over her making her almost look like an angel.

He stepped to her. "Sister." He greeted.

She turned her head and dipped it a little. "Mentor."

"We are alone, A'sha." He murmured.

"A rare thing for a Master." She said. She meant more than him. She meant herself. She had students learning from her as well and she had a family. That was why she was here. Some time alone. And he had interrupted it, though she did not seem to mind.

He nodded. "True enough." He said moving to put his hands on the battlement wall looking down. "What do you think of her?"

"Maria?"

"Hummm." He said not looking at her as he leaned over a bit.

"She is an interesting choice for a bride." She said. He looked back at her, his brows knitting together. She smiled and pressed her thumb to the squished part of his brow that furrowed when he was thinking or puzzled. "But she is a good fit for you brother. I am happy for you and I wish you well of each other."

"Her presence here will not anger you?"

She laughed at that, a merry sound. "God, no!" She beamed. "I have long wished more women among us. Perhaps just marrying you boys one at a time will do the trick."

"She remains Christian." He said reaching to tuck a wayward hair back behind her ear.

"Does that matter?"

"Blind faith is what we strive to reveal and its problems."

"But…" she said smiling up at him. "We practice it ourselves, Mentor."

He sighed and nodded. "Always the voice of reason."

"Someone must be." She dipped her head. "Goodnight, Altair." She said. She took a step and faltered, dangerously close to the stairway down to the next level.

Thankfully, her brother was there. He had turned to watch her go, a white wraith in the dark. However, as she stumbled, he reached out for her and pulled her back to him. He knelt, holding her against him, taking her slight weight.

She blinked trying to focus. "Forgive me. I am suddenly faint." She sounded startled.

He pressed a kiss to her brow and then shifted her, lifting her in his arms as he walked down the steps and down to the next to the gardens. He then walked to the arbor and sat down, his sister across his lap, looking at the stars. "Rest, sister." He said gently.

She looked at him, a child in his arms. He had held her often when they were children, caring for her when she was scared, hurt, or wanting to have human company. She blinked.

He smiled more and rocked her. "Be easy."

"I should return my family and leave you be to…"

He held her fast. "You are going nowhere until you can walk without being faint." He said firmly. "This malady will not be cured in a day, but you can ease light headedness."

"What do you mean malady?"

He smiled looking out at the rocks of the canyon across from them. "Many do not see it, but I do sister. I have known you your whole life. How much longer do you plan to hide it?"

She shook her head. She should have known. Though he missed much of Tazim in the womb, he had been there for all of Hatice, from the day after conception to her birth. He knew her well indeed.

"Why what do you think is wrong?" She asked, testing to see if what she suspected was true. He was very observant.

He smiled at her, eyes full of love and affection. "I think you are with child."

"I am. I just had it confirmed this afternoon."

"How long before you let others know?"

"I am not sure. I was hoping a couple more weeks. Maria deserves her glory."

He sighed. "The two most treasured women in my life will have children with month of each other. It will be an interesting year for us all." By which, he meant himself. Having one woman angry at the world for her condition was bad enough. Two would be a challenge.

She smiled lightly, laying her head on his shoulder. "Altair. Where is the Eagle? Show me again?"

"The one I am named for?" He asked.

"Yes." She said looking up.

He took a moment to orient himself and them pointed. "There. The eye, there, al nesr al taïr." He said. "My star. Part of the Eagle."

"Do I have a star?"

"Pick one sister."

She looked and spotted one that flickered red. "That one. The red one. By Sirius."

He nodded. "The heart of the scorpion. An interesting choice for a mouse, sister."

She smiled. "I like it because it is different, unique."

"Like you?"

She smiled up at him. He looked down at her fondly.

"I miss our times out here when we were young. Do you remember?"

"Yes." She said. "When were just A'sha and Altair, sister and brother, weathering the storm of being orphans so young."

"Yes." He agreed.

"Come, to bed with you sister." He said, rising to his feet. He shifted her to her own feet, holding her lightly around her waist as she found her balance. He then leaned to her, kissing her brow once more. "I will see you in the morning. Rest well." He murmured, embracing her lightly.

She nodded and retreated into the fortress, silently.

He looked to the stars and sighed. He was so blessed to have such a sister and now as a married man, he would guard both of them with his very life. He loved both, in different ways, but they both had his heart as no other.


	18. Calm Before the Storm

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 18 – Calm Before the Storm

In the years the followed, Altair and Maria welcomed their elder son, Darim, followed two years later by another boy, Sef, conceived while the pair had been in Acre. The labor was long and Altair had nearly lost his wife, even with the golden hands of his sister helping her. Forty hours, Maria had labored with a footling child. When A'sha had reached to turn Sef, but instead she damaged Maria. She did manage to save both mother and child, coming from the room, bloodied, to greet Altair who had left, unable to swallow the pain if his wife was taken from him. However, when A'sha came out, she greeted them with news he had a son and fainted so alarmingly fast, neither her brother nor Malik could catch her. She had slept for two days. Maria recovered, but after suffering a miscarriage three years later, she decided to give up hope for a daughter or a third child.

A'sha for her part, bore Kadar, born four months after Darim, Sitt came four years after Sef, and Umar came five years after that. Altair and Maria revealed in their nieces and nephews. Though Altair showed love in equal measure to all, Hatice was his favorite. She often was with him in his study, watching him work or asking him questions. Maria favored Sitt, a daughter she would never have. Though she loved her nephews also, it was clear that she always wanted a daughter. Malik, Altair, and A'sha all indulged her as Malik and Altair taught the boys how to fight and started them on the road to becoming assassins.

It was doing this time that Malik Al-Kamil, A'sha's cousin, son of Al-Adil, had suffered a defeat in Mardin, and having been defeated badly, licking his wounds, A'sha met him on her way back from Greece, bringing him and his defeated men to rest in Masyaf before the journeyed home to Egypt. The young man was only twenty-two.

He had been amazed at the Hashashin stronghold. Altair welcomed the man as family and allowed him to rest and take succor within the fortress. After remaining for two weeks within the walls of the Assassin Order, Al-Kamil had a great respect for Altair, the Order, and his cousin, whom he watched help heal a boy who had injured himself doing a Leap of Faith. He also was amazed at the fighting skills of the assassins, but also their drive to protect family and home.

He left with a new sense of purpose traveling to join his father who had gone to Damascus to deal with affairs of state after renewing the treaty with the Assassins.

ZzZ

Altair found Hatice holding a short sword one day, looking at the deadly edge curiously as her brothers trained nearby. Altair had spotted her. He came and took the weapon from her. "Do you wish to learn to use this then Little Dove?"

She nodded. "I want to be like you uncle Altair."

He chuckled and knelt before her. "First I must teach you to use this." He tapped her head with his finger, square in the middle of her forehead. "Then I will teach you to use this." He said lifting the weapon. "Like your mother." He said nodding to A'sha who was sparing with Cemil in an advance ring.

She smiled and nodded.

Altair smiled and scooped her up and walked to the ring where several had gathered to watch. A'sha and Cemil, unlike the students were using their real weapons. Cemil was a stronger assassin, but A'sha was faster and smaller, watchful for a way to engage and win. She did eventually have her hidden blade to his throat, but the duel had taken nearly an hour.

Both were sweating and she smiled, retracted her blade, offering him a hand instead. Altair had, with the Apple's help, designed a new hidden blade design that allowed the newer assassins to keep their fingers, now preferring to brand the finger. A'sha and her brother were the first two to have two of the weapons on their arms, bearing bracers that used a muscle in the arm to cause the blade to snap forward or retreat. A'sha still used the older design on her left hand, but the right used the newer. Altair wielded two of the newer kind finding the newer design easier.

Altair then traveled, to Cyprus, introducing his sister, who had journeyed with him, to the order members there. They traveled to Constantinople, wishing to use it as a base for the eastern extent of the Order. However, they arrived and found Templars had taken the city in the Fourth Crusade after a time of bitter Civil Unrest. The Crusaders held the city with an iron fist and upon hearing of the assassins forming a guild there, were quick to try to root them out, driving the remaining into hiding and forcing Altair and A'sha to flee. Both were bitterly disappointed.

They returned though Egypt and found that though the City of Constantine was not full of Templars, Egypt was welcoming. Al-Adil I, welcomed his niece with open arms and was a gracious host to her brother, whom he was very much wishing to hear about the Order, it's foundations, and how Altair kept the order.

Altair calmly explained the tenants and the ironies to the sultan who had heard from his son about the Assassin order and wished to learn more as well. A'sha and Altair remained for a month, allowing Altair to befriend the sultan as well as learn about the origins of the Assassins Order from texts in Egyptian. The texts were written in Greek, from the time of the Ptolemies, a language he did not know, but A'sha who had learned Egyptian was able to gain translations which she could translate into Arabic for her brother.

A'sha had a gift for language, learning English far quicker than Altair to communicate with Maria, helping her to learn Arabic. She also, besides Egyptian, had learned some Italian from the traders who had helped them travel. Altair could speak some, but preferred to allow his sister to translate for him.

They returned home and were welcomed by their families.

Altair continued to strengthen his order. He had been Master of the order for more than twenty years. There was a threat to the East. The Mongol horde, under Ghengis Khan was becoming a threat to the West.

He made ready to travel to Mongolia. He was to bring with him, Maria, and his elder son Darim. Sef had married young, just the year previously, and his wife Miriam was expecting their first child. Knowing that they would be away from Masyaf for at least a year, Altair had his younger son be in support of Malik who would be the temporary head of the Order in Altair's stead. A'sha was the more logical choice given her connections and diplomatic skills, but Altair knew that the Order was not yet ready for a female leader. Though it now had a female master assassin, two assassins, and two more novices, Malik was the most logical choice given his steadfastness to the Creed and what it stood for as well as his unwavering support to Altair.

Altair then traveled, leaving the Order in good care and with those he trusted, though parting from his younger son and sister was not easy for him. Maria had wept as she embraced A'sha who had stood stoically watching them leave Masyaf from the Watch Tower. Then she broke down, leaving for her rooms where he wept, unsure she would see her brother ever again.

ZzZ

Years past.

It had been more than seven years since Altair had left them.

A'sha had started to hear whispers. Malcontent. She spoke of it to Sef and Malik. They three had kept the Order intact, but as the time wore on and Altair did not return, the assassins grew restless. His last letter had come two years ago.

A'sha worried, but she also knew in her heart that he yet lived. The Steppe was a hard place to send messages from she imagined, but even she was losing faith that he would ever return.

One evening Sef and Malik quarreled in a hallway about the best method to discipline a novice found to have impregnated a young girl who was his age. A'sha had viewed it as young love and to allow them to marry and live in Masyaf, but her father, a local sheik, claimed it to be rape and was calling for the head of the boy responsible. Malik was willing to offer the sheik a purse of gold and some sheep if he allowed the girl to come to them, a placating move. Sef argued if it was rape they should allow her to speak to a A'sha as a woman and a mother herself. If was found to be so than the boy would have the choice of death or castration. However, if it proved to be a love match, allow the pair to marry and be happy. Either way, the girl should live among them, an assassin's child growing in her. They had to provide for the mother and child as an extension of the Order.

Sef had won the argument when A'sha had intervened. Sef and Malik never quarreled openly and this, though open, was more what to do with the fool novice than the girl whom all agreed would come be with them to save her from her father possibly stoning her for her offense. A'sha had gone to the camp a few miles outside of Masyaf to speak to the sheik and the girl. The sheik was bound his daughter who was weeping in a tent when A'sha had found her.

"What is your name?" A'sha asked, coming to the girl who was bound to the center post of the tent.

"Hafsa." The girl sniffled. Her belly was distended. The girl was young, barely fourteen as the boy was. She was rather plain looking, but still young love had bloomed or so A'sha believed. This girl was not acting like a girl raped at all, as A'sha well knew, though she was afraid.

A'sha knelt close to her. As a woman in fifties, she was a matron, but she was still lithe and beautiful though her hair was turning silver. "I will only ask you this once, child." She leaned closer and looked at the large teary brown eyes. "Were you raped by Mahir?" She asked softly, aware the sheik was behind her.

The girl shook her head. "No. He loves me." She whimpered. "But my father…"

A'sha looked back. She rose to her feet. "I have brought you gold, sheik. Your daughter will come with me and live among us." She said. She handed him the purse. "It is more than you would get as a bride-price among your people."

He looked at the purse. "This…boy means to marry her then?"

A'sha nodded. "Yes."

"My daughter should be stoned for spreading her legs."

"Was she promised to anyone?" A'sha asked.

"Not as of yet, but as one of two daughters I had planned on another sheik to form an alliance."

A'sha shook her head. "She has been bought and paid for by my people." She said. She turned back and used a knife to cut the girl free. It was then then she noticed the bruises. Her father had beat her. A'sha took a breath and steadied her anger as she allowed the girl to lean on her. "We will take our leave. Peace be upon you." She said.

The sheik shook his head. "You will leave when I am done with you Assassin whore." He growled. "They send a woman to do man's work." He drew his own wicked knife.

A'sha shook head and put the girl behind her. "She will have a good life. I promise you. Her and her child."

"It is an abomination. As are all you assassins." He moved to stab at her, but A'sha deftly blocked the blow, knocking it down and then using all her might she back handed the sheik, sending him sprawling backwards.

He cried out in rage and moved to attack.

She then put her hands to her sides, releasing the two hidden blades. That gave the guards and the sheik pause. They had never seen the like and they glinted in the light of the oil lamps. "I really would not if I were you. I would hate to end this with your death before your daughter's eyes. Quit this place. Never return." She said evenly.

"Who are you?" He demanded.

"A'shadieeyah bint Umar La'Ahad." She answered.

"The Mentor's sister!" A guard gasped who had come into the tent at the sheik's outcry.

She nodded.

The sheik stepped back realizing that this woman could easily take his life and all in his encampment and feel no regrets. Thinking about the rest of his family, he bowed. "As you wish assassin. I wish you well of the whore."

A'sha smiled a little. "I would have paid you even if the boy had raped her and executed him myself." She said and turned, gathering the girl she moved out, pulling her along to her mount. She mounted, pulling the girl up behind her, she bowed her head. "As-Salaam-Alaikum." She said bowing her head a little as she rode toward the edge of camp.

"Wa'alaikum assalam Assassin." The sheik said under his breath as she then, once passed the camp's edge spurred to a gallop to ride to Masyaf, looking in the hills above the valley.

She returned to the fortress and gently dismounted and reached up, helping the girl down. She nodded to the girl, walking forward, a hand on her small shoulder, though the girl was tall for her age, nearly the height of A'sha.

Malik and Sef stepped out into the courtyard. Malik nodded behind him and Mahir stepped forward, startled to be summoned at such a late hour.

However, once he saw Hasfa, he gasped and ran forward toward the girl. Sef moved to stop him, but stopped as A'sha lifted the hand that had been on the girl as the girl have a cry of happiness and ran into the arms of the boy. They collapsed to the flagstones, kissing, hugging, and whispering the words of young lovers to reassure themselves they were real.

A'sha stepped around them, her white robes, swirling about her in the warm breeze of the night. She nodded to the pair before her and then stepped into castle. The men looked at the children and sighed, nodding to each other as they moved to follow her.

ZzZ

Some months later, Sef woke to a scratching at his door. He moved, eyes full of sleep as he opened the door to reveal A'sha with four of her five children in tow. The eldest, Tazim, was segregated for his assassin trials that would happen soon.

"What is it auntie?" He asked. He looked back at Miriam who was again with child, her eyes were wide with fear. She had borne two girls to Sef, who were still sleeping in a pallet beside their parents.

"Miriam and the children must leave tonight for Alamut." A'sha said urgently as she stepped into the room. Her children were all ready to leave, the youngest, Umar, was twenty and a novice. Hatice and her husband were ready to leave, he held their youngest while their elder held onto her skirts. Kadar and Umar remained unmarried as of yet, but Sitt had also wed only in the past year and she, as Miriam, was with child, her husband bent close, watching urgently.

Sef nodded and galvanized into action. Once ready, the group went through the back passageways that Altair had discovered to where a wagon was waiting to bring them to a caravan. Horses were also there. The man had been well paid and he saw to the ladies and children getting into the wagon with sweet straw and blankets to ward off the night chill.

They all said their goodbyes, but promised to see them in Alamut as soon as they were able. On the way back, A'sha explained to her nephew that Abbas had been secretly dividing the order. She had heard whispers from careless tongues who did not know she moved about the castle at night when she could not sleep.

He was grateful to her for keeping his family safe. She had written a letter to Tazim, explaining all when they had to leave, but for now, to keep the Order from collapsing, they had to stay. Try to hold things together until her brother returned.

Malik was in his study and he looked up as the pair came into room. "is it done?" He asked his wife.

She nodded. "They are safe and on their way to Alamut." She moved to him and wrapped her arms about him as returned to the letter he was writing to Altair, hoping it would reach him.

He patted her arm gently. "I fear for this order." He said.

"If only my brother had returned. It would not be so, fraying at the edges like a tapestry." She said.

Sef sighed dropping into a seat. "I fear for us. If Abbas is staging a coup. What is to be done?"

"We can only wait and allow him to make the first move." Malik said softly. He sighed and leaned his head back against his wife's breasts. "I do love you." He murmured.

She nodded.

After speaking for a time, Sef retired to his rooms now alone without his family. He felt alone, but he rather them safe than here where they could die.

Malik had allowed A'sha to lead them to their chambers. She shut and barred the door and smiled at him as he watched her. She moved away, stepping into the moonlight from the window as she began to remove her robes.

He stepped to her as she stood naked from the waist up. His arm wrapped about her stomach that had fleshed from birthing several children, but it made her no less beautiful to him. She was lithe and strong still that belayed her age. "Do you remember our first time?" He asked, bending down near her ear as he pressed his lips to her hair.

"Yes." She murmured as his hand moved up to cup her breast. "It seems like a life time ago." She said looking out at the full moon over the mountains as her husband began to kiss her neck. Though they less frequently made love, they still did at least three times a week. Their encounters now lacked the furious stamina that they once had had, but now was gentle, loving, a bonding between them.

She turned in his arms. His hair, as hers had streaks of gray. She smiled and leaned up to kiss him as he moved his hands to her hips, gently working on the rest of her clothing as she did his. Once naked, they moved to their pallet, slowly, unhurried, watching, feeling, wanting.

She laid back and he moved over her, watching as the woman he loved became another as she reached for him, wanting to feel him, all of him, about her, in her, a second skin. He was more than willing to accommodate as he entered her, sighing at the feel of her.

She was his and always would be.

They moved together, the only sounds, the soft sighs and moans that were lover's vocabulary as the night wore on and time seemed to stand still.


	19. The Death Bringers

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 19 – Death Bringers

There was a cry in the castle.

Malik looked up startled from his meeting with Abbas and a merchant who was paying the assassins to make use of their hands to remain for the summer. There was good clean water and miles for his goats to wander on the crags.

It was not a cry of just pain, but anguish. The sort of cry one made when they lost a loved one.

"Who was that?" The merchant asked.

"I am not sure." Malik said. None of the women of the fortress were due to have a child. There were two pregnant that he knew of, but they were months from their deliveries.

He moved quickly, joined by Sef and Tazim who had also heard the outcry.

A young female novice came to them. "It is A'sha." She said. "You had better come. All of you!"

Malik looked at Sef and they both ran for the healer's chambers. They walked into the rooms. Normally light and warm, one corner was darkened, shaded, and cool. There was A'sha, blood on her legs and on the clothes about her.

All three men knew what had happened. She had lost a child.

None of them knew she had been with child.

She had not told them.

A woman lifted a bowl of bloody rags, her hands bloody as well.

Tazim knelt before his mother, looking at her in shocked horror. Malik knelt to the other side, flanking and slightly behind her. Sef was behind her, closing his eyes in pain. Malik closed his eyes, looking down at the blood. If he would have lost her. He violently gestured for the women and two acolyte healers to leave them for now.

"I have lost my child." She whispered, somewhat in a daze.

Malik looked back at his nephew, the pain on his face. Why had she not told them? Why had she chosen to bear this alone?

She looked at her elder son, face full of pain and inner agony. He reached and touched her knee, looking at the blood, fearful she was hemorrhaging, but no red flowed from her in a torrent. "I knew I could never have the child." She sighed. "I was told by the seer in Egypt that after Umar, no others would come, no matter what I did, but then I began to hope when this took root in me. I was hoping I could trick the fates." She looked down. "But I am too old to have such a gift again."

Malik was still squatting by her shoulder. His hand went to her hair as her eyes closed, feeling him as he kissed her hair. He hushed her softly as Tazim gently looked about and saw another basket near them. Within was, reverently laying on a blanket, as though it were sleeping, not larger than his palm, was a tiny child, pink, but still recognizably a child. He swallowed and lifted a corner of the blanket within and covered it, looking back at his father sadly who was caressing his wife's hair as she leaned against him.

"It's all right." He murmured to her. "It's all right, my love." He soothed, feeling anguish in his own heart.

She started to sob and turned to him, her bloody hand taking hold of his stubbed arm as he held her, trying to comfort her and himself. He continued to try to hush her as he himself wept for her and the loss of the child he never knew had come into being and now had been taken from them.

After a time, she took a shaky breath. "Go away." She told them all. "Go away." She straightened away from Malik. "Just go away. Leave me alone." She shook in pain. "Please." She said softly, not wanting them to see her so.

Malik slowly let go of her, but shared a look with his son. Tazim shook his head, ever so slightly. Malik nodded to him. Both sat back from her, but remained, behind her, against the wall, hands folded around their knees as they sat, watching, keeping guard over her.

Sef bowed deeply to his aunt and left her in their charge as she sniffled, trying to gain her composure.

ZzZ

Only two months later, after A'sha had at least physically recovered, the cool winds of fall was coming down the mountains.

The air was thick with tension as A'sha, Sef, and Malik all walked to the chamber room that the council that they had formed in a way to appease Abbas and those who supported his call for Altair to return. The Council, with Malik at it's head, Sef and A'sha as members as was Abbas and two of his group. It was a way to keep the Assassin's from fracturing.

Altair had been able to quell such outcries. For eight years, the three had managed as well, but the whispers and tensions between the old regime and the new interlopers was causing a rift. A'sha had been able to smooth things over, but even she was unsure if her brother would return.

Malik sat at it's head, A'sha beside him, Sef to the other side as they watched the others come in. "Welcome." Malik greeted, rising to his feet.

Abbas looked at Malik wearily. "What are we discussing today then Mentor?" He asked.

A'sha smiled a little. "Darim sends us a letter." She said lifting it. "He sends his regards. They are closing in on the Mongol threat and as he reports, soon will have the Khan dead and be able to return."

"Good." Abbas said.

Sef regarded the calm rival fraction leader. Abbas had named himself the leader of it. The group had started to openly depose the three and so by doing Altair's leadership. "That is all you have to say?"

Abbas nodded. "It will be well to have our leader returned to us."

A'sha exchanged a look with Sef. The twenty-eight-year-old man heard the amusement to Abbas's tone as she did. Sef had the look of Altair, though he had his mother's height, who was tall for a woman. He also had his mother's laughing gray eyes as Darim did, but he was fairer than his brother ever had been and not as muscular.

Both knew well that Abbas had always hated Altair and now he appeared to be making his move, but in such a way that they almost could not stop him. Inches, not a full coup, but he was gaining assassins to his side as Rauf had reported to A'sha. Rauf had been a loyal assassin to Al Mualim and Altair and did not care for the opposition to Altair's leadership.

The meeting went on without incident, discussing the matters of grain shipments, tea, and other supplies to the castle. Things the master steward required.

A'sha then walked outside for some air. Abbas watched her go. Rauf watched him and stepped closer. "For too long you have watched her under your heavy-lidded gaze, Abbas."

Abbas snorted. "She is a beautiful woman. She moved with such grace. A true master assassin."

Rauf seemed placated at that and walked off.

Abbas turned to Swami who was his faithful lackey. They walked together away from others to speak. Sef watched them go, casting a look at Malik who simply shook his head not to interfere. The two then moved to speak about the new novices that would be joining the order.

Abbas walked to the terrace overlooking the gardens where A'sha walked, white master assassin robes moving in the soft breeze. Though her brother had removed the traditional requirements for different levels of the order wearing different robes, he and his sister still favored the master assassin robes. He had done this, much like removing the need to have an assassin's finger removed for their hidden blade as a way for the assassins to better blend into the crowds in which they walked.

"She is the key, Swami." Abbas said watching A'sha walk and then find a quiet place in the warm grass to meditate.

"The key?"

"To the Order." Abbas said. "She shares Altair's blood. If I am to win the rest of the assassins I need her at my side."

"But, Abbas, she is already married."

Abbas smiled. "Indeed. But not for long." He said cryptically.

Swami blinked and then smiled.

ZzZ

Sef was in his rooms that night, reading letters from his wife and children. Miriam have given him a third daughter. He smiled as he read the letter from Fatima, his eldest, her writing large and unpracticed, but no less touching.

He began to write a reply when he heard something. The wind was blowing through the open window. He shook his head.

There was a knock and he looked up. "Enter."

His aunt stepped into the room, cowl about her shoulders. She sighed. "You could not sleep either then?"

"No." He said. "I was reading letters." He said calmly. "What has you on edge, auntie?"

She shook her head. "I am restless is all." She said unfolding her arms.

"Malik?"

"He is sleeping." She said smiling a little. She had bedded him well, losing herself in the feel of his kisses and warm body trying to ease her. It had worked for him, but she remained restless.

Her nephew smiled a little. "Making another cousin for me?" He asked with an amused lint to his voice.

She turned to him sharply. "How…"

He rose to his feet and lifted a hand, playfully pressing to the darkening bruise on her neck were Malik had kissed her hard, using his teeth to make just below her ear. She gasped at the pained pressure, but also flushed red at his words.

He smiled more looking down at her. "It isn't as though I am a boy, auntie. I am married as well."

She nodded rubbing the spot absently. "I am too old for that now." Her other hand went to her belly subconsciously, remembering that it had not been too long ago when she had been with child, the child she had lost.

He saw and moved his hand over her own. "I am so sorry auntie. I didn't mean…"

She looked up at him a bittersweet smile on her face. "It is for the best. I could hardly keep up with a child now at my age."

He chuckled in spite of himself. "You do well enough with the novices."

She nodded to him. Something caught her eye and she gasped as she noticed men, four of them, all in black were in the room. They wore hoods that covered their faces,

"Sef!" She gasped moving to face them.

He shifted as well, drawing his sword. "Run A'sha!" He cried.

She shook her head and spread her hands, releasing her two hidden blades as she looked at the men. However, these shadows were not so easily killed. She caught one and he managed to break her hold in an expert move, a move she had perfected and taught.

Her mind went blank with horror.

These were assassins. Her students.

Sef had managed to injure one, blood spraying the wall.

A'sha was finding herself becoming winded as she faced two. She found herself cornered. She watched as Sef slipped on blood on the floor, allowing the other man to catch him, forcing him against the desk, knife to his throat.

"Your father sends his regards." The raspy voice of the form was heard.

Sef looked up at him in horror as the assassin drew the blade over his throat, the deep cut causing Sef to gasp as blood welled and flowed down his chest to the papers on his desk, washing over his letters from his family as he dropped to the floor, hand going to his throat as he looked at A'sha who screamed.

Her scream was cut short as one of the men fainted and then struck her face, knocking her back, stunning her a moment. She fell awkwardly against the wall, blood coming from her nose.

The second man growled and drove his sword into her chest, a death blow.

The leader of the group cried out. "No! She was to be spared you fools!" He barked pulling off his hood revealing himself to be Swami.

A'sha dropped to her knees and then fell against the wall, looking up at them as blood came from the wound.

The assassins escaped out the window.

It was the last thing A'sha saw.

ZzZ

An alarm went through the fortress at the bodies being discovered by a servant who had come to bring morning tea to Sef at dawn as was his custom. Sef, whose eyes were forever open in shock, was found having bled out from the gaping maw that had been his throat.

A'sha had been stabbed through the heart, eyes closed. However, it was Cemil who was close to her and saw her eyes open faintly. She could hear voices, Cemil came into view.

He gasped as she focused on him. She had blood on her lips, but she was alive. God knew how, but she was. She looked across seeing Malik, Abbas, and Swami looking over the bloody scene before them. The naked fear in her eyes seeing Abbas and Swami told him enough.

She could not speak, her face had dried and fresh blood. He gently moved her, reverently lifting her after he covered her with a sheet. She was limp, but she could hear her breath. It was ragged and the liquid sound to it. She had a pierced lung. If he hurried, he could perhaps save her.

Malik turned to him as he made a quick exit, giving in a look.

Malik moved to follow as Cemil took her to the medical ward. Using a bandage, he made a thick bit of gauze that had a corner free. It moved a little as she breathed. Malik gasped, realizing his wife yet lived. "We must take her from here. Can you take her to Alamut?" Malik asked urgently.

"She could die."

"She will die here." Malik said.

Cemil nodded "I will see to it."

"Thank you, my friend. I will not forget this." Malik said as Cemil her body to a stone bier. Assassins brought Sef's body down. His eyes were now closed, but his throat was still bloody as was his clothing and he lay lifeless near her as Cemil gently wiped the blood from A'sha's face, willing her to keep her eyes shut.

She did so, hearing voices in and out of her consciousness.

And so, in the dead of night, Cemil and two others, managed to sneak the body of the master assassin passed the guards having her in a wagon laden with water jugs. Once free of Masyaf, Cemil had pulled back the cover and moved to kneel beside her. He gently removed the gag her had put in her mouth to keep her from being heard inadvertently.

"You are safe, my lady. We are taking you to Egypt." He murmured as he checked the dressing on her wound, still wondering how she had survived what should have been a killing blow. He kept watch on her as she looked about.

"Why?" She managed, eyes full of pain and confusion.

"I am not sure." He said honestly. "Be easy. You must live. We were betrayed. We must come to know by whom."

"Swami." She hissed.

"Are you sure?" He asked.

She had gone limp, body too taxed.


	20. The Assassin Order Schism

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 20 – The Assassin Order Schism

God really had to be on the side of right and justice.

It was the only way to explain how A'sha, weakened from a wound that should have killed her, made it to Egypt where the healers under her cousin, Malik Al-Kamil, sultan of Egypt. The young sultan was not happy to hear about the plot against the Order's leaders.

He had his own issues to deal with. Crusaders had come to Egypt determined to bring Christianity to the Holy Land. When his father had died, the Ayyubid kingdom has been divided three ways. Al-Kamil was made sultan of Egypt, his brothers Al-Muazzam and Al-Ashraf Musa held Palestine and Syria respectively.

However, the warm sea air helped A'sha recover. It was soon discovered why she had survived. The skilled doctors of Egypt discovered that the Master Assassin was a Mirror as they were called. Her organs were opposite from most humans, meaning her heart was on the right of her chest. The sword had pieced her chest and lung, but with proper care and guarding against fever and petrification, it was survivable as she demonstrated.

This gave her a strange mystical quality among the Egyptians, many coming to join the Order she soon founded, Cemil her loyal Lieutenant. Al-Kamil had been hesitant at first to allow the Assassins to become strong in his lands, but with the Levantine Brotherhood betrayal he realized that offering them a place to continue their work as an ally would be beneficial.

The civil unrest in his country was causing him to become rather unpopular. His cousin had recovered, however, she traded her white master assassin robes for darker, robes that allowed her to move like a shadow. She was more than twenty years his senior, but she had stopped an assassination attempt by one of her own former Brotherhood, killing him and sending his body back with a message attached to him. The message read, "Traitor" and would be seen, she had no doubt by Abbas and his men.

She had heard from an assassin who came to her seeking asylum that Abbas had taken control of the Order, casting out the true assassins to serve on missions outside the castle walls. Malik had been imprisoned for the murder of Sef. His knife, covered in blood, had been found in their rooms after a search was conducted. Someone had told Abbas that Malik and Sef had quarreled often and thus he had ordered a search of the rooms. Malik himself had been listless at the death of his wife, though he too gained the blame for this after learning of the incestual love of A'sha and her nephew. With the arguments and this affair, it was little wonder the master assassin had murdered both.

A'sha had to admit, the evidence was pretty damning. She could not travel back, not yet. There were too few that supported her brother and herself. Too few she could count on even among her own men now. However, her Order was ever growing.

Several assassins had defected to her Order called the New Assassin Order. With a woman at their head, women and men were allowed to join equally if they proved their conviction. Al-Kamil worried about having this woman gaining power, but two events happened to change his mind utterly to realize she was no threat to him.

However, he had been warned about her _'iibra_ was what people called her. The needle, so named for her famed method of taking a life that was fast becoming legendary in the region. Driving her hidden blade into the spine of a victim, killing them instantly, with little blood. But given her general lack of hunting Egyptians he was willing to at least have her around as a guest.

The first was when his wife who had had a difficult pregnancy went into labor. She had lost three children late in pregnancy before and he worried it would be the same. She had cried if this child did not come to have her die with it.

A'sha had come and helped the girl, soothing her body with herbs and knowledge. When it was time, she helped her stand on bricks and bear down, with the help of another wife of Al-Kamil who was the laboring woman's sister.

Fearing it was dead, the woman had cried in fear, but A'sha assured her that the child yet lived. After nearly an hour of exhaustive pushing, the child, a breach child came bottom first. A'sha had helped, cutting him a larger pathway and helped him come from his mother.

The woman had fallen backwards onto the bed, her sister seeing to her as A'sha saw to the baby. The lack of cry made the new mother cry in fear and start to curse God, but when A'sha told her to quiet and rose to her feet, holding the bundle, she revealed the child lived.

The woman gasped crying out apologies. A'sha assured her God knew that women said things not meant as she labored. She smiled and washed her hands, walking to find Al-Kamil who rose to his feet. She smiled at him and nodded at the question in his eyes telling him he had a son.

He gasped and ran to see to his wife. A'sha followed. Al-Kamil had seen his son, healthy in his wife's arms. He then dropped to his knees praying to Allah in thanks. A'sha watched from the door. He finished and came to her, pulling her to a secluded atrium where he embraced her and thanked her, offering her gold and supplies for her order.

The second was when he held court. A general had tried to make a coup and he found himself with enemies on all sides. He had his own blade and was a skilled swordsman, but there were too many and his trusted guards had been dispatched.

He was cornered and fell to the floor, a man over him ready to strike. He had moved, dodging the blow with a roll and then coming to his feet. Who were these men? They were not Egyptian or Syrian?

As he would later come to find out, it had been a Templar plot, aided, in part by the Levantine Order who had come across dispatches from Byzantium, but had sent no word of warning.

However, it was A'sha who appeared, dropping from the ceiling between two men, expertly she drove both her hidden blades into the chests of the two nearest men. They dropped and she rose to her full height, looking at Al-Kamil, blue eyes glittering under her dark cowl. She had spun and killed two more and then nodded. On her back was a bow with a quiver of arrows with her short knife.

Al-Kamil had never seen her so dressed, wearing light mail and robes blue black the night. She was ready for war and she took a breath looking about.

Another turned to run to warn his fellows. She palmed two small knives and threw them both with deadly accuracy, one in his back and the other at the base of his spine, dropping him.

"Come, Highness." She said lifting a hand to him. He took it rising from his knelt position. He moved behind her.

They walked to a courtyard and her arm slammed into his chest, stopping him as an arrow hit the wall, shattering. It would have hit him had he taken another step. He looked to see how she had known, but then saw an arrow sticking in her upper arm.

She growled in annoyance. Taking a breath, she pulled her bow free and notched and arrow. Without looking around the wall to see her target, she whipped forward, shooting her arrow as another came as she ducked behind another pillar.

There was a scream as the archer fell to her arrow. She smiled as she reached up, breaking off the arrow in her arm with a growl. She turned looking for other archers. She saw none and beckoned the sultan.

"My wives." He protested.

"My men have them. They are safe." She said.

Which meant she also had his nearly year-old son safe as well. He nodded a thank you. How had she known? That was a discussion to have soon enough.

She then looked and then together they moved through the palace. She spotted another archer, but this one had not been alerted to them yet. She signaled the sultan to duck down. She moved stealthily upwards, spiderlike on the wall. She then leapt up when his back was turned and covered his mouth as she drove her hidden blade into his throat, silencing his scream before it could rise in his throat. She let him drop down and then realized there were two more men there.

She heard a soft bird call and looked upwards. Cemil was above her on the wall. She then looked at the men spreading her hands as they advanced upon her.

"That is here. That is their leader! If we get her, they will reward us handsomely." One said.

She then leapt onto the battlement wall that faced the courtyard. They were startled by this and moved closer. She then smiled at them grimly and then let out a low whistle before she dropped backwards in a reverse leap of faith. At the same time, Cemil dropped from his position, driving his twin hidden blades into the backs of the men.

Al-Kamil gasped as the master assassin flipped in midair, and splashed into a pond below. Cemil climbed down the wall as Al-Kamil came to the master assassin as she pulled herself to her feet in the water. Her cowl had fallen back revealing her silver hair.

Cemil jumped down the rest of the way and came to them offering A'sha his hand. She smiled at him ruefully.

"Don't ever do that again." He hissed at her.

"Leaps of Faith are part of us, Cemil." She said chiding him.

"Yes, but a reverse one? I have never seen that!" He gasped. "How did you know the pond was there?"

"I took that on faith." She grinned at him and slapped his back playfully as she took a breath. The fall has knocked the wind from her. At this moment she was feeling her fifty-seven years.

Cemil looked at her arm. "Let me see to that."

She shrugged. "It's nothing."

"Nothing?" Al-Kamil gasped. "It is an arrow."

"Superficial." She said looking at it.

Cemil grunted and then reached up and pushed it forward through the muscle. She hissed as he pulled it from her arm. He ducked as she aimed a punch at him as a reaction to the pain.

Al-Kamil held a bandage. "Allow me." He said.

She looked at him. "You should not bloody your hands, sultan."

He scoffed. "That arrow was meant for me." He said. "Let me help."

She nodded and allowed him do wrap it. She watched. "Gently done, highness, my thanks."

"I am in your debt again, cousin." He said. He looked about as she took a few steps about, stretching her arms and legs whose muscles had constricted in the cool water of the pool. Cemil stood with the sultan as they waited for her next move.

One of her men appeared near them, like a shadow given life. "Mentor. The Templars are routed." He said. "However, we have word they make ready to attack Damietta."

Al-Kamil nodded. "Then I will ride to meet them."

A'sha nodded. "We will help you in any way we can." She said taking a breath.

The sultan dipped his head. "Your assistance is welcome." Al-Kamil said knowing now that she was likely his greatest ally in the fight to come.

She put her hand to her chest and bowed to him. He went to go see about his own men and his family. She looked at Cemil after she had sent the other assassin to see to the others. She also informed him to have Al-Kamil's family returned to the castle. They had been removed, by force, but Al-Kamil's wife had convinced them to go after hearing that the men were from A'sha.

"I am getting a little old for this, old friend." She said sighing as she felt a stitch in her side.

He chuckled. "Aren't we all, Mentor."

She grinned back and the put their arms about each other and walked to find the rest of her men.

ZzZ

Four Templars were captured by her men were brought before her on their knees. She had invited Al-Kamil to join her in the citadel he had given her. He did so, coming to where she stood before the men, looking at them.

These were not from Byzantium. These were English and French Templars. She looked up as the sultan came in. These four had come to try to kill the sultan's family. She dipped her head in welcome to her cousin. He did as well.

She paced before them. "Do you know what the difference between your kind and mind is?" She asked.

One looked up at her. "We believe in God?"

She chuckled at that.

Al-Kamil looked at her. "You do not believe?"

"I believe in our Creed and Tenants, sultan." She said turning to him. "These men were sent to kill your wives and son."

He looked at them without pity. "Count yourselves lucky you are not in my court. I would have all your heads by sun up."

She pulled one to his feet, the assassin holding him stepped back. "Do you know what the first tenant of our Creed is Templar?"

He shook his head.

She nodded. "Stay your blade from the flesh of an innocent." She cocked her head. "A child, still at its mother's breast can be no more innocent." She said. "And yet you wished to kill him."

"We were under orders." The man said.

"Shut up, Henri!" Another barked.

A'sha lifted her hand. "Continue." She said looking at him.

"If we eliminated the sultan and his family, the crusades could move into Egypt without contest."

"Do you know who I am?" She asked.

"The Needle, I have heard you called. Or the Bitch."

"The…" she said in amusement. She moved away. "I have a message for your masters." She said. "The Holy Land is for those who have rightful claim to it. Those who have lived here. You are not freeing it, you are bringing it to chaos."

She looked to Al-Kamil. "How many men does it take to deliver a message, highness?"

"One." He said.

"Indeed." She said. Her hand snapped up.

The three men on their knees dropped as hidden blades were plunged into their throats from the assassins holding them.

She nodded to the sultan. "One." She turned back to the lone man who was quaking. "Deliver your message Templar and never return to this place."


	21. The New Regime

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 21 – The New Regime

A'sha stood on the battlement of Damietta's massive stronghold fortress overlooking the port and the mouth of the Nile. Though the port had been taken by the Crusaders and was held by a fleet from Genoa as well as their Frisian allies.

Besieged, the Ayyubid ruler, Al-Kamil refused to give up Egypt or the Nile, the gateway too it. A'sha, his cousin, who was far older than he, but also far wiser, stood united with him with her assassins. She had personally killed Simone Doria, the admiral of the fleet, thinking his death would scatter those who remained, but the leadership fell to his son Pietro, who was far more cautious and paranoid. The death of his father by someone who seeming evaporated into smoke had made him afraid.

The kill had reminded Al-Kamil that his cousin, though a strong leader was still a master assassin. Though she had many of her assassins carry out such deaths, she had seen to this one, to remind all, on both sides who they were dealing with. Unlike the Brotherhood of Masyaf who appeared and did nothing to compromise the rest of the Order as the third tenant of the Creed, A'sha left markers, a white feather on the body, a mark of her Order. She had dipped another in the blood of the man she had put to rest and brought it to Al-Kamil.

She stood, looking out over the port as the sun was setting. Cemil, her faithful second, joined her. He had once been her husband's man, but now served her and his words were only second to the Mentor herself. The breeze from the sea moved her cloak about her as she stood watching.

"Mentor." Cemil greeted.

She smiled, but did not turn to him. "Has Al-Kamil seen to the retreat?" She asked.

He nodded coming to her side. "He is even now moving his troops."

"Strange the Nile did not flood."

He sighed, lifting a leg to lean against it. "They call the Nile a woman. She floods and ebbs as a woman's monthly flow. The flood's absence will be felt with next year's crops."

She nodded. "And the lack flood keeps us in danger here."

He sighed. "When did you last sleep?" He asked touching her arm.

"Two nights ago." She said. Something she would admit to him only.

"And the last time you ate?"

"Breakfast."

He sighed. "A'sha, the Order looks up to you. It would not do to have you fall over."

She looked at him and narrowed her eyes. "I am well enough. I just have too much on your mind."

"The Princling worries as well." He said. He sighed. "Forgive me for this, but is there any truth to the rumors?"

"What rumors?" She asked cocking her head.

"Surely you have heard."

She arched an eyebrow.

He shook his head and turned away not sure how to proceed. Normally she knew of what he spoke before he did.

She lifted a hand to his shoulder. "Cemil. Come, now. We have shared enough to know you should not leave such things like that."

He closed his eyes. God, help him. "Some of the sultan's men speak that the only reason the sultan allows you to have your position is because you…"

She turned fully to him. "I…"

"Warm his bed as a lover." He said softly, wincing even as he said it.

She scoffed. "I am nearly a decade older than he." Which on the grand scheme of things was not much. Many men married younger wives with twenty sometimes thirty years between them. She had been closer to Malik in age than many wives. The seven years between her and the sultan was only two years more than between her and her husband had been, only now she was the elder.

He shrugged. "You bedded with Malik not long ago." He said. "He is a man away from his wives. You are a woman with needs." He lifted his hand. "I am not one to judge."

She took a breath in annoyance. "Once. And it meant nothing to either of us." She admitted slowly. "It was foolish for us both, but we had had too much wine…"

He straightened in surprise.

She lifted her ageless blue eyes to look at him from under her cowl. "Did you think you would be the only one other than Malik? That was hardly part of our arrangement." She asked. It was built on mutual respect and need. He had lost his wife and she her husband. They were equals in every other way and bonding so united not only them, but the Order as well, but neither had pledged to be monogamous.

He blinked. She had a fair point, but jealousy flared for a moment and then died. He was not about to allow jealousy over one act of passion make anger in his heart. The sultan could have his pick of anyone, younger, more beautiful. The fact he had chosen A'sha said the man had a keen idea what he wanted, and likely had wanted since he had met her. Cemil had bedded with her since they had come to Damietta months ago. It had started over him comforting her as she grieved for Malik.

"I do not even know if Malik is dead." She turned her head away and looked upwards. "I am damned anyway. I may as well be a woman. The she-devil bitch they claim me to be. A whore. At least this whore knows what she wants."

He grunted and shook his head. "You are not a whore. A she-devil…maybe…"

She snorted a laugh at that. He looked at her with a smirk and she smiled back. Such was the way with them. The complete trust. Even more than a married couple. Such was the bond of the Brotherhood.

He touched her cheek affectionately. Rarely did he do so openly, but he wanted to assure her he was not angry, had only been curious.

There was a strange sound. A'sha lifted her head and saw something coming toward them lobbed into the air from a ship catapult. It was a fire-bomb, but not like any she had seen before. It glowed blue as it hurled toward them. Pitch burned yellow, the fire fanning out behind. This stood out in the near moonless night. Fire bombs were meant to be hurled at a gate to set it aflame or hurl pitch into a wall to heat the stones of a wall, cracking it and causing it to crumble.

This was different.

It landed on the battlement near them, exploding sending flaming blue liquid into the thatch rooves below as it arched. A'sha gasped startled as she looked at Cemil as another hurled toward them. They turned, pivoting on their toes to run to raise the alarm.

A'sha yelled down to guards to help with the fires and be ready for more as they moved along. Another hit the stones of the battlement. Cemil gasped as the container exploded, sending blue flame toward them. He turned sharply, bodily pushing himself between the spray and A'sha. Her momentum, however, carried him backward into the pool of liquid that shimmered as it ignited as well. This soaked his leather shoes and licked upwards at his legs.

Cemil screamed in pain as the flames burned through his robes and heated his light mail. He dropped to his knees looking up at her in pain. She was in shock that she did not feel the flames on her own cowl as the quickly burned the cloth and burned her neck and cheek. She cried out also, tearing at the pain. She threw her clock from her as it ignited, passing over the flames.

She then gasped, hand against her blistered skin as she saw Cemil lying on his side, body engulfed in fire. He had been burned so much, he could no longer fight it as the flames took his body. She screamed as she reached for him. He looked at her, locking eyes with her as his blackened lips quivered in pain. The smell made her turn to vomit as other assassins came to them. They pulled their mentor away knowing that there was little to be done for Cemil.

She cried out, fighting calling for help as they hauled her back into the inner keep for safety as fires sprang up all about them.

ZzZ

Altair looked up at Masyaf from the valley below. The great spires of the fortress could be seen high above them.

He took a breath. It was good to be home at long last.

Ten years.

Ten long years they had seen to the Mongol threat. They had dealt with the great Khan who had murdered, raped, and enslaved much of Asia. It was only a matter of time before the Khan turned his eye Westward to the rest of the world.

Darim and their Chinese Assassin friend Qulan Gal had seen to the Khan's death by crossbow.

Now, he returned to retake his place as Mentor of his Assassin Order. Maria was beside him on her own horse, looking about. Behind them was Darim, now thirty-three, watching as they rode forward.

The air was strangely tense.

Had no one been expecting them? He had sent letters. He frowned as they continued.

They arrived at the base of the hill. A lone assassin was there and not the one they had wished to see. Swami had been a novice when they had left Masyaf. Neither Altair nor Maria cared for the young fool. He stood, now a full assassin, watching them with his beady eyes.

"Where is Rauf?" Altair asked without preamble. "I requested his presence to greet us and bring us to Mailk and A'sha."

"Apologies Mentor. He succumbed to a fever three years ago." Swami said.

And no one sent word? Altair exchanged a look with Maria. Something was wrong.

"Then my sister. Surely she and my son would have come." Altair continued.

"Sef and his family traveled to Alamut some time ago." Swami said. He shook his head. "Lady A'sha left the Order several years ago. No one has heard from her."

"And Malik?" Altair asked, growing tired of this.

"In prison, Mentor."

"For on earth for?" Altair asked.

"That, you should hear from the Council, Mentor."

Altair let out a sighing hiss. His own sister had left and not sent him word? Malik was in prison? Sef was in Alamut? What had happened to his Order? He looked down at the young man. "Our rooms have been prepared for us naturally then in the Master's Tower until we can meet with the council tomorrow."

"The Master's Tower did not have space Mentor. We prepared rooms in the Western Guest Tower until we can have proper accommodation made."

Altair grunted and then they moved to go to the fortress together. Once there, no one helped them with their belongings, as meager as they were. Maria shook her head and walked to the rooms that had been prepared.

These were sparse, even for guests. Altair sighed and shook his head as he went to the sleeping pallet and sat down wearily.

Darim narrowed his eyes being even more put out than his parents at the rooms.

Altair shook his head. "I know you are weary my son, but I need you."

Darim nodded setting down his things. "What is it father?"

"I need you to travel to Alamut. Bring back your brother. See if he has had word about my sister."

Darim nodded and straightened. "I will do as you require father." He said. "I can gain a few miles before the sun sets at least."

Altair nodded. "Safety and Peace my son."

Darim nodded and was off.

ZzZ

Maria and Altair made their way to what had been the Mentor's study when Al Mualim had been the Mentor of the Order. Altair had also used it as his own study. However, instead of books and a desk within it, there was a large table with chairs about it. A dais was at one end with three chairs. He cocked his head.

This would have been set for Sef, A'sha, and Malik to rule jointly, but why the others? What had happened to make for a Council not the rule he had set.

Abbas came into the room with Swami and several others. Abbas took his place at the head. Altair and Maria sat at the far end, watching those about them. Who where these assassins? None of them had the look or feel of true brothers.

"Welcome Altair. I look forward to hearing about your exploits to the east." Abbas said.

Maria sat down and looked at him. "First, before we say anything of our travels, we would like some answers, if you please, Abbas. We left Masyaf in good order. It would seem standards have slipped a bit."

"We left the Order…" Abbas smiled, though he didn't look at Maria. He looked at Altair. "When you left the Brotherhood there was only one Mentor. Now there appears to be two."

"Careful Abbas that your insolence does not cost you dear, Abbas." Maria warned.

"My insolence." Abbas laughed. "Altair, please tell the infidel that from now on she may not speak unless directly addressed by a member of this council."

With a shout of anger, Altair rose from his chair, which skittered back and tumbled to the stone. His hand went to the hilt of his sword at the insult brought his wife, but two guards came forward, weapons drawn.

Altair lifted his hands and spread them wide before reaching to gather his chair back.

"I think now we can begin." Abbas said. "Please do not waste our time further. Update us on your quest to neutralize the Khan."

"Only once you have told me of Malik, A'sha, and Sef. Why are they not here?" Altair asked, sitting once more.

Abbas arched an eyebrow showing that they were at an impasse. Altair growled a little and then told the Council of their travels to China and the Steppe. Told him of how Darim brought down the Khan. Told him that he, himself had been injured and nearly brought the Mongol camp upon them, but it was Darim who had killed him with his crossbow.

"His skills with a bow are beyond doubt." Abbas said. "Where is he then? Did you send him to Alamut then?"

It appeared that Abbas knew all that happened within the fortress walls.

"To see Sef at Alamut, perhaps?" Pressed Abbas. He looked at Swami. "You told them Sef was there, I trust."

"As instructed." Swami said.

Altair felt something in him that was worse than worry in his gut. Fear, perhaps. Maria, too, sensed it. Her face was drawn and anxious.

"Say what you have to say then Abbas." Altair said.

"Or what Altair?" Abbas asked.

"Or my first task when I resume leadership will be to have you thrown in the dungeons."

"There to join Malik then?"

"I doubt very much Malik belongs in prison." Altair snapped. His brother-in-law was a good just man. "Of what crime is he accused then?"

"A murder." Abbas smirked.

It was as though the word thumped onto the table.

"Murder of whom?" Altair heard Maria snap.

The reply, when it came, sounded far away, as though Abbas was miles away.

"Sef." Abbas said. "Malik murdered your son." He then looked at them. "And he tried to murder your sister, his own wife and mother of his children."

Maria gave a sharp outcry and put her head in her hands as she began to sob.

"No." Altair heard and realized it had been himself.

"I am sorry Altair." Abbas leaned back. "I am sorry to deliver such news upon your return. And may I speak for all those assembled when I extend my sympathies to you and your family. But you understand, until certain matters are cleared up, it will not be possible for you to resume leadership of this Order."

Altair was trying to unravel the jumble of emotions in his head. Beside him Maria was sobbing. "What?" He asked. "What?"

"You remain compromised at this point, so I have taken the decision that control of the Order remains with this Council. For now."

Altair shook his rage and sorrow. "I am the Master of this Order Abbas. I demand that leadership is returned to me, in line with the statutes of the Brotherhood. They decree it be returned to me upon my return."

"They do not." Abbas smiled a little. "Not anymore."

ZzZ

Later, in their residence, Maria and Altair huddled together in the dark. They had never felt so chilled when they slept on the Steppe and snows fell about them. The Order had fallen.

Altair had excused his wife from the Council and then demanded to hear the rest of the tale of the time he had been absent. The Templars had risen and taken back Cyrus. Abbas had claimed he could not spare the men dealing with Crusaders who were entering the lands once more.

Altair held his wife as they mourned their son.

He took a shaky breath, tears in his eyes as she shook against him, still weeping. Sef had been killed in his bed by Malik in a jealous rage just two weeks ago. The pair had been seen quarreling, over power the witness has guessed, but it later proved another reason. Sef and A'sha had been rumored to have become lovers and were plotting to overthrow the Council that had been formed as well as Malik's authority that he had been given by Altair. Sef had been murdered, throat cut deeply. A'sha had been in her study when she had been attacked by her husband, stabbed, nearly fatally. There had been no time to send a message about it to them. Malik had been found in his room, the weapon under his sleeping pallet. He had been put in prison after. A'sha, to protect her, had been sent to Egypt, to the healers there, but there had been no contact with her. Abbas had feared she had succumbed to her wounds.

Altair quaked in rage and pain. Such a betrayal against him and the Order was not in character for wither of them. It was very strange.

"I must speak to Malik." He said softly.

"They will not allow you to."

"I will find a way. I am a Master Assassin still." He said.

"They are watching us."

"Indeed, but I know ways to avoid them."

She nodded. "Be careful."

He took a breath. "First I must find a way."

ZzZ

He waited for a couple of days to make certain he was being watched. When he knew he was and whom was following him. They would be avoidable.

He moved quickly and quietly when he noted the person who was supposed to be watching him became interested in a bush nearby to prevent Altair from noticing him. With that Altair moved from his view and using the rooftops moved to the fortress. He knew Masyaf better than anyone since he had spent his youth climbing the walls to gain viewpoints of the area beyond.

He moved up the wall and squatted in the shadows as guards passed him, not noticing him in the dark. He controlled his breathing. He was still quick and agile and he could still climb and scale the walls, and yet…

Perhaps not with the ease he once did. His wound he had received would prevent him from moving with the grace he once had. He listened to the guards as he calculated his movements more than he ever had in his youth. He would be no use to anyone if he was dead.

He moved along the parapet to the citadel and then down to ground level avoiding guards the whole time. He found the grain stores and moved to the side where there were steps that led to the tunnels below. He paused, back to the wall. There was only the sound of the small streams of water in the tunnels. The Orders dungeons were so rarely used that they too would have been used for storage had it not been for the dank and damp of the tunnels.

He moved and could see the guard. He was sitting with his back to the side wall of the cell block, his head lolled in sleep. He was away from the cells and did not have an eye line on what he was guarding. Altair found himself simultaneously outraged and relieved at the man's sloppiness. Altair moved quickly bit him his feet making so little sound it was masked by the sound of the water.

Of the three cells the middle was locked. Malik was curled up on the small pallet that had been provided for him. Nearby was another one, but it was empty. The smell was unnerving. The smell of someone who had not bathed was bad enough, but it was clear no one had emptied the toilet bucket in days, perhaps longer. Altair covered his nose a moment in spite of himself.

Malik was clothed in rags or rather what had been his robes and black over garment that marked him as a high-ranking member of the order. Through his tattered and threadbare shirt, he could see the lines of Malik's ribs. His cheekbones were sharp bony outcrops on his face and his hair had grown long as had his beard. He had been in the cell far longer than a couple weeks, even longer than a month certainly. Perhaps even years.

It was not anger that filled Altair's heart at that moment, but pity. How long had he been sent to rot here? Long enough to have a message sent? Altair did not want to think about the implications. He was not about to allow his friend to remain there, however.

The guard opened his eyes and saw Altair standing over him. He then knew no more as Altair rendered him unconscious. He dragged him to the cell, opened the door, and laid the man in the other pallet. When he woke he would be alone in the urine and feces stinking cell.

Altair turned to Malik. He gently shook his shoulder. It was bone in his hands with hardly any muscle. "A'sha?" Malik asked hopefully. As if he had been dreaming.

"It is me, Altair." Altair said softly.

Malik looked up at him. "Fate has brought you home at last." The look of hope and happiness made Altair realize that Malik was not the enemy. He had not betrayed him.

Dropping his flash of anger, Altair leaned close. "Can you walk, my friend?" He asked.

The eyes opened and looked up at Altair as if he could not focus. When he finally did the look of relief and gratitude made Altair forget even the slightest doubts he had about his friend. He coughed a little and sat up slowly. "For you, I can walk." He said. He managed a small weak smile.

"Where is A'sha?" Altair asked hurriedly. Everything Abbas had said was a lie. Was she dead as well?

"Not here." Malik said walking with Altair weakly.

As they made their way through the tunnels it became clear that Malik did not have the strength to walk. Altair put his good arm around him and lifted him into his arms. The man had lost so much weight it was like carrying a small child out of the tunnels. Altair moved stealthy back to his home carrying the man.

Once there Altair laid the man down on the pallet gently. Maria came to his side giving him a beaker and holding it to his lips of life-giving water.

"Thank you." He said in a hoarse whisper to her when he had his fill. His eyes had cleared a little. He pulled himself up on the bed, made uncomfortable by Maria's proximity, as though he thought it dishonorable to be tended by her. He made no motion to fight her as she moved to treat the rat bites on his legs.

He took a breath. "Where is A'sha? Did she manage to return or was sending her away a fool's errand?"

"We were told you tried to kill her." Maria said evenly.

Malik paled. "Never!" He gasped. "I love my wife!" He said in horror at the thought.

Altair lifted a hand. "What happened to them Malik. What happened to my son?"

"Murdered." Malik said. "Two years ago, Abbas staged his coup. He had Sef killed, then placed the murder weapon, my own knife, broken as it was in the struggle during the murder in his study. The stone was left on the body to be found. A'sha was with him. She was stabbed. It should have also been fatal, but she lived…at least long enough for me to send her to Alexandria." He took a breath and coughed lightly. "Another assassin swore he'd heard Sef and I arguing and Abbas brought the Order to the conclusion that it was I who responsible for your son's death and the attempt on my own wife because I thought them lovers." He shook his head. "They were never that." He looked down. "Abbas told me on his last visit that he was sorry that A'sha had fallen. He would have taken better care of her, he said."

Altair felt like the room was closing in on him. Altair swallowed. Malik had not betrayed him. A'sha and Sef had not betrayed anyone either. They had paid for it however.

He looked to Maria. Two years their son had been dead. Rage started to build within Altair, white and hot, and he fought to control it and the impulse to turn, leave the room, go to the fortress, and cut Abbas then watch him be for mercy as he slowly bled to death as Altair watched.

Maria put a hand on his arm, feeling and sharing in his pain. "If A'sha is in Alexandria. Can we not send word to her?" She looked at Malik. "Why would he care if she fell? She was one more obstical to his coup."

"She is a woman and if he fathered a child on her, he would have a claim to the Order though her as a master and as your sister." Malik said looking down. "As disgusting as it is, I can see how he would come to that conclusion, especially with me out of the way."

Maria looked at him disgusted. "You speak of rape."

"Abbas is capable of it. He plotted to have me here for the death of your son. Who knows how far he would go." Malik said. His shoulders slumped. "I am sorry, Altair. There was nothing I could do to send a message while in prison and Amal likely could not either with him watching her like a hawk. Besides, Abbas controlled all communication in and out of the fortress. No doubt he has been changing our laws to benefit him." He said bitterly.

"He has." Altair nodded. "It seems he has supports on the council."

Malik looked up at him. "I am sorry, Altair. I should have anticipated Abbas' plans. For years after your departure he worked to undermine me. I had no idea he had managed to command such support, but he had. It would not have happened to a stronger leader. It would not have happened to you." He coughed and the fit made his whole-body shake.

Maria offered him more water and he took it gratefully and he sighed.

Altair patted his shoulder softly. "Do not trouble yourself. Rest, my friend." Altair said and he motioned to his wife.

In the next room, the pair said, Maria on the bench facing Altair who was in a high-backed chair.

"Do you know what you have to do?" Maria asked her husband.

"I have to destroy Abbas." Altair said his fists balling together.

"But not for the purpose of vengeance, my love." She tried to soothe. "Think more clearly. Let us bide out time for a time and see how to proceed. We can nurse Malik so he can testify."

He nodded. "You are right, my love." He sighed and leaned forward to kiss her gently before looking back at the sleeping form of Malik.

His poor frail friend.

ZzZ

Altair and Maria spent much of the day helping Malik recover.

It would take more than a day for the frail imprisoned man to gain his strength back, but they were able to allow him to bathe and have a fresh set of clothing, something he had not had in more than a year. He was grateful to them.

Altair left him in the care of Maria as he went to walk the grounds. He was angry, but he needed a level head to defeat Abbas. The assassins backed him. How could he win them back? What could be done to save his Order from chaos?

He needed his sister if he could send word to her.

He set it to the side and sighed looking down as he put his hands together. After sometime he heard footfalls. He looked up and found the company some he wanted. Maria, his beloved wife, came to him, her footfalls soft in the grass.

"Does he sleep?"

"Yes." She said. "What has happened?" She asked seeing his look.

"The Templars have retaken their archive on Cyprus. Abbas sent no reinforcements. It was a massacre."

"Oh my God." She gasped dropping to kneel before him her face full of anguish. They had married there to pay homage to the people who had been kind to them for liberating the people. Now that was in ruins.

"When we left ten years ago, this order was strong. But all of our progress has been undone." He lifted the small book. "These words make my heart angry to read." He took a breath. "I know that Sef died on the order of Abbas and how he died. It was not in his bed, but in the open defending himself." He took a breath to calm himself.

"Abbas must answer for this."

"Answer to whom?" He asked testily as he rose to his feet. "The assassins only obey his command now."

She looked at him and rose. "Resist your desire for revenge, Altair. Speak the truth and they will see their error." She said watching him walk away from her.

He turned to her, eyes flashing. "He executed our youngest son, Maria, he deserves to die!" He growled spreading his hands.

"Perhaps, but if you do not win back the Brotherhood through honorable means, its foundations will crumble."

He took a breath and stepped to her. She was always the voice of reason on his heart. That was why he loved her so. She would speak her mind without fear with him and gently calm him. He sighed. "You are right." He said finally. "Thirty years ago I let passion overrun my reason. It created a rift that has never fully healed."

He touched her face gently and she leaned into the caress. "We need to face him on this." She said.

He nodded. "Yes."

She turned to walk toward the fortress. "Speak reasonably and reasonable men will listen."

"Some will, but not Abbas. I should have expelled him thirty years ago when he tried to steal the Apple." Altair said walking beside her.

"But you gained the respect of the assassins because you let him stay.

"How do you know this? You were not there." He said looking at her

She smiled a little looking up at him. "I married a masterful storyteller."

He took a breath and then looked about. Assassins were milling around the courtyard, but there was no swordplay, no barks from instructors, and no sounds of anything. Silence. "Look at this place. Masyaf is a shadow of its former self." He said looking about.

"We have been away for a long time." Maria said looking around as well.

"But not in hiding." Altair said. "The Mongol threat demanded out attention and we rode to meet it. Who here can say the same?"

Maria took a breath and shook her head. "Where is our eldest son? Does Darim know his brother is dead?"

"I sent a message for him after we learned of his death. With luck it has reached him already." He said.

They entered the library and the back gate, wrought of metal and glass lifted to reveal the back gardens of the fortress. They walked to it and out blinking in the bright sunshine.

"Abbas. I almost pity him. He wears his grudge like a cloak." Altair said.

"His wound is deep. It will help him to hear the truth."

"As I walk these streets I feel a great fear in the people, not love." The assassins had once been the protectors and had on many times protected the Levant from Templars and others to keep the people safe. The people used to love them and now, things had changed.

"Abbas has dismantled this place and robbed of all the joy."

Altair took a breath. "We may be walking to our doom, Maria."

"We may, but we walk together." She said reaching for his hand. He took it and squeezed it a moment before releasing it to continue.


	22. To Lose One's Soul

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 22 – To Lose One's Soul

Darim had been riding hard in the desert. He was two days from Masyaf and he had more than a week to ride to Alamut.

He has not bee prepared at all when a great sandstorm came upon him. He realized he could do nothing, but free his horse after he collected what he had brought with him and ducked down, using his cloak to make a shelter or at least breathable air as the wind swirled about him.

He found by morning that he was nearly buried in a new sand dune. He unburied himself and shook sand from his belongings. His horse was gone and the sun was hot.

He walked much of the day. He had a good supply of water, but he was disoriented. He knew which way he was going, but not exactly where he was. The sand storm had wiped all sense of where he was and the sands did little to aide him on where he had been versus where he was going.

He was walking East. He could tell this from the sun, but as the sun set, he began to realize how hungry he was. He had brought very few provisions with him since he excepted to snare or be in towns to by food. He ate what he had in the morning, while his stomach could still digest it and not make him ill in the heat.

He took a breath. He moved over a ridge in the rising moonlight and looked down. There was a wadi with water, rushes, and a small group of Nomads. They were gathered around a fire, talking to each other and laughing at jokes or storytelling, he could not tell from his distance. Several of them appeared to be husbands and wives, sitting close together, speaking, heads bent together as they ripped flat bread and spoke in merry tones. All were dressed in the dark clothing known for the nomads. It kept them cooler on the desert than white did. It was strange there were no children in their number, but perhaps they were in the low tents that were set.

His stomach growled as he caught the scent of roasting meat. He ignored that for now as he ducked down and moved closer. He made it to the rushes and looked. He debated his action. Nomads in the region were known for being very closed and had a strong distrust of strangers.

That left stealing some food.

He moved closer, watching for an opportunity. The closest fire had meat hung in strips over the fire. A woman had checked on it, turning it, before she moved into the nearby tent.

It was now or never. He coiled to spring to run in and run back out, hopefully unnoticed. However, he heard something near him. A soft sound on the sand. He turned his head and realized, too late, that he had not been aware as an assassin should be. A man, wearing a nomad face wrap had a sword. He bashed the pommel into Darim's temple.

Darim had no time to react and he dropped into the sand cursing himself for not thinking about guards in his hunger.

ZzZ

He woke, groggily as he was dragged into the center of the camp by two strong men. He was dropped into the sand as he blinked, trying to clear the cobwebs from his mind. He then flinched as a sword dropped, point end into the sand near his face.

A form knelt before him, holding the sword as the firelight caught the blade and reflected onto his face as he looked up. The form was a veiled woman, watching him, amusement in her eyes. It was then he realized the sword was his own.

"Well then, Assassin." She said softly. "What am I to do with you?" She asked. Her voice pattern was not of the nomads at all, but the Levant. More specifically the region that Masyaf stood. Only one who had been raised there would know that. Also, would guess him as an assassin by his trappings not just a traveler lost.

He sat up slowly, still trying to clear his head as he felt hands on his shoulders. He saw the two men who were guards flanked him, holding him still. His hands were bound before him and he had them on his knees as he noticed the camp was watching as the woman rose to her feet and walked back to a wooden crate. She turned and sat down. She whipped the sword in an arch and then laid it across her knees as she regarded the man before her.

"He is one of Abbas's men sent to assassinate you." A man said walking forward holding Darim's bracer that held his hidden blade.

This started overlapping conversation around him and not in a language he knew. Who were these people? And how did they know about Abbas?

"Abbas?" Darim repeated. "Why would he care about a nomad woman?"

"Why indeed?" She said, eyes dancing. She leaned forward. "Tell me then, assassin. Why were you sneaking into our camp?"

"I was hungry. After the sandstorm I needed more water and food." He looked up at her, gray eyes watchful, taking his measure as she was. "I came to inquire about food."

There was a female laugh nearby. "A likely story. Kill him and be done with him mother."

"Peace Sitt." The woman before him said lifting her left hand. "Let him speak."

Darim blinked. There were only four fingers. Her ring finger was missing. Either that was an extraordinary coincidence or this woman was a Levantine Assassin. He blinked. To his memory only four women had such an honor, but only one of them had had her ring finger removed for the use of a hidden blade.

"I realized speaking would likely not work so I was going to steal it." Darim continued.

The man who held the bracer narrowed his eyes. "Do you take us for fools? Is Abbas so consumed then that he would send you and now that you have failed in your task you wish to befriend us?"

"Umar." The leader said coolly. "He isn't lying."

He looked at the leader and sighed. "I do not trust him."

A'sha shook her head, ignoring him. "What is your name then assassin?"

Darim thought for a moment to lie and then thought better of it. "Darim." He said.

"Darim." She said breathily. She moved suddenly, driving the blade into the sand as she moved, quick as a cat and with the same grace, she set upon him. Her hand lifted near his face and he noted the deadly blade from her bracer under her sleeve coming into deadly proximity to his neck flesh. "I know one by this name Assassin." She hissed. "He has been long absent. If you are he than you would know me." She said lowering her veil.

Darim looked at her face. There were thin lines of age on half her face. The other half was marred terribly by the scars from burns along the side of her neck from hairline, cheek, and disappearing into her clothing. They were waxy in appearance, uplifted blotches where her skin had been burned so severely that there remained that it was a wonder any of her face had survived at all. Wisps of silver hair escaped from under her cowl. In the firelight her skin was like bronze, made more so and weathered due to the sun. Her eyes, dark around them in kohl were the bluest he had ever seen. He knew those eyes and the face.

"Auntie." He murmured.

She gasped and closed her eyes. "So, it is true. You have returned!"

He nodded. "My father and mother are in Masyaf. They wondered where you had gone to." He blinked. "You would have never allowed it to become such a state."

She nodded. "Indeed. They tried to kill me." She lifted a hand subconsciously to her chest where the scar was. She looked down. "They did kill Sef."

"What?" He gasped. "No! I am to fetch him and his family to Masyaf and…"

"Some of his family remain there." She nodded to a young pretty woman who looked to be about eighteen near them. "Khadijah here is Sef's eldest daughter."

Darim nodded. "Beautiful as you always were. I remember the day you were born." He said addressing the girl.

A'sha nodded. She then shifted her hidden blade before him. He blinked and she nodded to him. He then realized what she meant and then nodded as he lifted his hands and cut his bonds. She nodded to him, offering him a hand so he could rise.

Those about them looked at A'sha curiously as Darim rose to his fill height. He was taller than Altair. A'sha looked at him. "Here let me tend that for you." She said nodding to the wound that leaked from his temple. "Sitt, bring your cousin some good and water."

"We are feeding the enemy now?" The woman protested.

A'sha stepped around her nephew and shot her daughter a glance. "He is no enemy of ours, Sitt. He is your cousin, son of Altair and Maria."

"The Christian heretic?" A woman asked.

The man who held his bracer stepped to him and handed it back. "Forgive my wife, cousin." He said. "She is the daughter of the sultan's vizier and has not yet learned about other faiths and Creeds."

"And yet she is an assassin?" Darim asked.

"Wife of one, so yes. In much the way your mother is one of the Order." The other man held out his hand. "I am Kadar."

"You have grown since I last saw you." Darim said.

"You got older."

Darim chuckled and clapped him on the back as food and water was brought. The bread was cooked on the hot rocks around the fire and it tasted smoky and earthy in a way he had forgotten. He found out it was a specialty of Kadar's wife

He sat down to eat with those who were his family. They were traveling to Masyaf. A'sha's Order patrolled the sands to keep caravans from bringing supplies to the Christians by land, which was rare since they had the sea route still.

He learned that A'sha meant to assassinate Abbas for breaking the Creed's tenants. However, with Altair returned and her brother learning of the wrongs done, he may do so himself. She also learned her husband was still imprisoned. She would free him and bring him back with her to Egypt to heal and be with his family again.

Darim noted that Tazim was missing from their number as was Hatice. Hatice had stayed in Cairo, mourning her husband's death to a fever. She was also directing the Order in the absence of her mother and brothers. Tazim was in Masyaf, being a spy of sorts for his mother. However, Sitt, who was still leery of him, her Jewish husband, Nassar, Kadar, Kadar's beautiful Bedouin wife, Yara, Sef's two elder daughters Khadijah and Yasim, Umar, Umar's Egyptian Coptic wife, Safiya made the number at the camp with A'sha.

The two wives did not wear assassin robes, but wore the common desert clothing of women. Yara wore a Batula on her face signaling her family, though Bedouin had originally come from Eastern Arabia. Safiya wore a head covering as her Coptic tradition dictated. She did not sit close to Yara, likely because the pair did not get along well.

Darim was given a place to rest after spending several hours enjoying the company of his family once more. It had been so on the Steppe, though the sand was more forgiving to lay upon.

ZzZ

The next morning, he woke and discovered breakfast was being made. He joined the group, watching the sun rising.

They would move after the sun lost much of it's power, but this wadi was a good place to watch for caravans. To pass the time, Yasmin challenged him to riding a horse, bareback in a race. He agreed, watching the others playfully watch in amusement.

However, as they started out, she pulled up short, seeing something. She turned back to the camp and made a low call. Darim pulled up short as well, realizing the race was paused. He looked back as the girl gestured toward the horizon. Darim squinted. It looked like a mirage, but then he saw, through the heat shimmers, a rider, riding at a good pace.

Sitt galvanized into action, grabbing a bow as she mounted a horse near her. A'sha barked orders in Egyptian. Kadar and Umar both mounted after quickly saddling their mounts behind their sister as she charged off.

Darim watched as Yasmin came to him. "What is happening?"

'That rider is from MAsyaf." She said. "He has a white assassin's hood."

Darim blinked looking and squinting once more. Sure enough. And he had seen the horses after him. Sitt and her brothers, still dressed as nomads were riding down on him. Sitt had a headwrap on and pulled up her veil. Her brothers had done the same.

Sitt drew close enough that she sat up on her mount. The bow, Darim could see, even at this distance was the shorter recurve used on the Steppe. However, here, on horseback, it made sense as it did for the Mongol's to use it. Poised, she fired, hitting the rider in the shoulder as she rode by. He dropped from the saddle into the sand. Instantly, her brothers dismounted.

There was a brief skirmish and then the assassin was bound and tied to a horse. Umar, the lighter of the brothers then mounted behind his sister as she came back and they all road back to the camp. Darim and Yasmin, their game forgotten, did likewise.

The captured messenger was dropped unceremoniously before A'sha who sat in the shade of her tent, regarding the man before her. Darim watched the man shift and he looked at Sitt as she walked by him. "Did you mean to wound him?" He asked.

"Oh course." She snapped. "We need information from him." She kept walking.

Unsure how he had offended her, he followed. He needed to make up for his offense. He did not like her malice. She was his cousin after all.

A'sha had her own sword drawn and was toying with it in the sand was she looked at man before her, blue eyes flashing, silver hair shining like the precious metal as the light caught it as she rose to her feet. She had returned all of Darim's weapons to him. He stood back watching with Yasmin and Yara as Kadar and Umar stood to either side of the captive.

"Who are you?"

"Cemal, son of Cemil."

That gave her pause. She blinked at the younger man. "Why are you here?"

"I need to deliver a message."

"To whom?"

"I was sent by Altair to find his son."

Darim stepped forward. "Find me why?"

Cemal nodded. "I have a letter to you in my robes."

A'sha nodded to Umar who found it and lifted it to Darim. Darim read it and nodded. "My father speaks of Sef's death and asks me to return as quick as we can. Abbas has taken control and will not relinquish his power over the Order."

A'sha nodded and lifted her weapon. "It is time to end his interloper." She said. She nodded to the group. "Make ready. We leave in an hour. Darim, help them." She then offered a hand to Cemal. "Come, Cemal. I will see that wound for you."

He blinked. "You are A'sha. Altair's sister."

She nodded.

"My lady!" He bowed to her.

She shook her head and lifted him. "No." She said. "I am a Mentor as he."

He nodded. "Do you have word about my father?"

She took a breath. "Come. We have things to discuss while I tend you." She looked at Umar. "Make it look as though we were never here."

"As always mother." He said ruefully as he set the bags he had packed down.

She nodded.

ZzZ

Maria and Altair walked to the lower garden. To the one side was the brink of the waterfall that dropped deep into the canyon below. The other side was a tranquil garden, but there was uneasiness in the air. Maria and Altair noted there were several assassins standing to the side. They looked relaxed, but as with Altair, they were fully armed and ready.

Before them stood Abbas and Swami. As Maria and Altair came forward Abbas lifted a hand to Swami. "Let them speak." He said.

Swami nodded and lowered his weapon.

Altair watched them anger starting to build, but for now he remained calm. "We seek the truth about our son's death. Why was Sef killed?"

"Is it the truth you want or an excuse, for revenge?" Abbas asked.

"If the truth gives us an excuse, then we will act upon it." Maria said angrily.

"And my sister. What of her?" Altair asked. "You wished her dead as well?"

Abbas shook his head. "No. She was in the wrong place at the wrong time. However, it would seem you avenged your son." He said. "Poor Malik." He said lifting his dead from the sack. Malik's eyes were rolled up and his severed neck dripped with fresh blood. Maria's eyes widened in horror.

Altair gasped. "No!"

"You freed him from the dungeons to kill him." Abbas said looking at the head as he then set it on the earth. "A strange sense of justice. In my day we used feathers dipped in blood as a marker. Apparently that wasn't good enough for you then Altair?"

The assassins nearby looked at each other. The severed head was adding to the guilt that Abbas had already started to play into to warp their minds against their Mentor.

"That is a lie!" Maria gasped.

Abbas then shoved the head out of his way to address them further. Altair watched and felt his blood boil. Assassins never showed disregard to those they had killed. He watched Abbas with a growing hatred.

"Surrender the Apple, Altair, and I will tell you why your son had to be put to death." He smiled coldly.

"Ah, the truth is out already." Altair said. "Abbas wants the Apple for himself. He does not wish to open your minds, but control them."

Abbas growled. "You have held that artifact for thirty-years, Altair! Reveling in its power and hording its secrets!" He looked at the Mentor before him. "It has corrupted you."

Altair looked at him. He was formulating a plan in his head. He took it from his pouch and lifted it. "Very well Abbas. Take it." He said lifting it.

"What?" Maria asked stunned watching her husband carefully. Surely, he could not be serious.

Abbas nodded to Swami to take the artifact as he stood back, watching. Altair stood, hand out watching the younger man approach him.

Swami sheathed his sword and walked toward Altair a smirk on his face. He got close enough to whisper so that only Altair could hear him. "Before I cut your son's throat, I told him you ordered it yourself. He died believing you had betrayed him."

Altair's eyes flashed as he lifted the Apple. His hate and anger poured into the artifact as it began to glow. Swami cried out as his hand went to his belt and lifted knife. He looked at it in horror as Altair stood watching him. The blade cut his cheeks and then his chest and the man cried out in pain.

Near him Abbas gasped feeling the power of the Apple once again on his mind. He put his hands to his head, holding it as the light shone about him. This he remembered. The pain.

"Altair!" Maria cried watching in horror.

Still Altair continued.

"Altair, no!" She gasped tugging on his sleeve. He finally paused and looked at her. Swami's knife was poised at his throat, but suddenly he was in control again as Altair calmed a fraction as he looked at his wife. The light died about them, but Swami growled and stabbed forward, aiming for Altair, but stabbing Maria in the back instead.

Maria gasped and arched against her husband who caught her to him. His face twisted as he stabbed Swami in the face with his hidden blade so quick, the younger man did not have time to react. Swami fell backwards, blood spurting from his wound. He coughed and died, blood running from his lips.

Altair gently lowered his wife to the earth as he felt is heart becoming a ball of ice. She was gasping for air and he gently held her head his face close as though he were about to kiss her. She then looked up at him quaking a little. "Strength, Altair." She murmured and then her eyes rolled back and she died with one final shiver.

He looked at her and cupped her head looking at the face of his beloved. "Maria…" was all he managed in an anguished whisper. He closed her eyes and let her head gently rest in the grass as he looked about his breath coming in gasps.

The only sound was the anguished cry from the Mentor as he held his wife to him, looking about him. He snarled then, thinking to use the Apple on all there, killing them all, Masyaf, and anything else he thought.

"He is possessed! Kill him!" Abbas cried.

Altair rose to his full impressive height and took a breath. His eyes were cold as he looked at Abbas ready to advance on him and kill him.

"Take the Apple! NOW!" Abbas called to the assassins as they stood looking at their former mentor in fear. Altair put the Apple in his clothing and then turned to the assassins who all held swords at the ready.

"Archers!" Abbas barked backing away for he knew the murderous look on the former mentor's face.

The first volley had Altair ducking, Miraculously, only one arrow hit him, gashing down his leg as he side stepped it, but it bloodied him and ached.

Several archers appeared again re-notching and fired. All missed due to Altair moving quickly from their aim, but one. It scrapped against his cheek like fire and tore his hood from one archer whom had checked his aim.

He looked up as he ran toward the assassins on the ground. He stabbed one in the face with his two hidden blades. From the Apple, he had learned to use two of the weapons and they were highly effective for close combat. Ignoring the sting on his face and calf, he fought the group. They fought well, but lacked the master assassin's skills in combat and lacked the ability to judge and gauged actions. These would have been sent back to being initiates under Al Mualim for not knowing their surroundings and not using them to their advantage.

Another arrow landed near him. He dropped another assassin. All of them feel to Altair's superior skills and then he looked up.

He ran toward his escape and found his way blocked again. He fought the threat and killed them all. Making his way into the library there were more there who ambushed him. He took two more lives before running up the stairs to the great window. He leapt through it knowing few would follow him.

He landed on the earth with a grunt and looked about the courtyard as glass dropped about him. He then moved to exit the main gate and down into the village. He passed several villagers, pushing passed them in his hurry.

They cried out as the assassins gathered, hearing Abbas's call for his head.

The entire brotherhood was against him. He needed to flee.

He ran into the market and saw a familiar looking figure coming towards him. He gasped. He well knew that face for it was his own, just set on a taller, younger, more muscular body.

It was Darim.

But he was not alone.

With him was a dark clad Assassin. The robes were that of a master only the black blue of night. It was a woman, shorter than either by a foot. She wore a veil, but her cowl was lowered revealing beautiful silver hair, bound in braids that were pulled back, ready for action.

However, those blue eyes, Altair would know anywhere. When had she aged so that she had silver hair. It was like spun thread of the precious metal.

His heart leapt.

She lived!

"A'sha!" He gasped, trying to control his breath.

"Altair." She said bowing her head.

For a moment, Altair looked at his sister's garb. It was assassin's clothing, but designed not like the white of his robes to be distinct and then fade into the crowd, but hers to blend into the shadows.

"Father." Darim said smiling at him. "I got your message. What has happened?" He asked.

Altair pressed his son backwards as assassins became visible around them. "Darim, turn back!" He barked. "A'sha! Come!" He said grabbing her sleeve.

"Have they all gone mad?" Darim asked looking at the men he once knew as brothers gathering.

"We have to go! Abbas must not get his hands on the Apple." Altair said pressing them both backwards.

Darim watched and then nodded. He then unslung on of his belts of throwing knives. "If you need more knives, take them." He said.

"They will try to ambush us. Keep a good supply of knives with you, my son." Altair said stepping backwards as he looked up seeing men making their way to the roof tops.

Together they ran into the village looking for horses so they could escape. A'sha was with them, but there was no time to truly speak. Altair was beside her, looking at her. She had more weapons than he. Other than her hair, her eyes seemed the same. However, the veil made him curious.

She looked up seeing three on the roof. She lifted two knives and felled two before they could cry out. They fell from the roof to the earth. The third fired an arrow at her which she shifted out of the way from just in time before it had buried itself in the earth where she had been standing.

Darim threw a knife, killing the archer.

"Above you!" Darim said as more appeared above, leaping on an assassin who had come from around a building and using his hidden blade to dispatch him. Altair looked up and threw a knife at a man crouched on the roof waiting. He fell to the earth.

"We'll try to work our way around. There are horses in the village. Once we have mounts we can make for the coast." Altair said grimly.

Darim nodded standing. He had been too preoccupied with their immediate danger to notice anything else. "Where is mother?" He asked noting her absence.

Altair shook his head sadly as he threw another knife ahead of them into the face of an oncoming assassin. "She is gone Darim. I am sorry."

A'sha paused as she pulled a man, startled at this. She took a blow to her arm. She growled in annoyance, shoving her hidden blade into his neck in retaliation.

Darim took a breath. "What? How?"

"Later." Altair said. "We will speak on this later. For now, we fight."

A'sha nodded. She held her sword in one hand, a short sword in the other, fighting with the due calm skill of a master assassin.

When a path was cleared, the three ran toward the edge of town.

Another wave was dealt with, but one grabbed A'sha's veil in his death throw. It ripped and dropped, revealing the horrid scars of her burned flesh of her cheek, chin, and neck.

Altair gasped as he came to her. "Who did this!" He asked cupping her face.

She touched his hand. She smiled at his concern. "Templars and a fire weapon. I lost Cemil to the flames. Damietta lost many homes and people as well. Blue hot flame of death."

Altair shook his head. "I am sorry sister."

She shrugged. "I have learned to deal with it. It no longer causes me pain."

No, Altair thought, seeing her eyes, but the death of Cemil had caused pain in her heart. At his name, she had a tear appear in her eye.

All Altair wished to do was hold her and stop the pain for her and himself, but they were still in danger.

ZzZ

Altair and Darim were surrounded by assassins in one quarter.

"Brothers, we need not fight!" Darim pleaded as the group closed in.

"Forget reason, Darim, they have been poisoned by lies." Altair said.

A'sha took a breath. "If we can make it to the valley, my men can come and force them back." She said.

"Your men?" Altair asked as he moved to be back to back with her.

She smiled. "You are not the only Mentor in existence with the name La'Ahad, brother."

Altair nodded. "Hence your robes. You have formed a guild in Egypt then."

"Yes. With the help of the sultan we fight the Templars of the Crusade."

Altair grunted as they moved almost as one. "You would have thought the Christians would have learned by now that peace would come from not trying to free a land that does not wish to me."

"Reason is not a strong point I have noticed among them." She said ruefully as a man fell to her blades, throat cut away.

Altair closed with one assassin, but he felt the breeze and heard the whistle of an arrow near him. He ducked and then looked up and saw the man reaching for his face as he dropped backwards, an arrow in his eye, through his brain.

Altair looked up, expecting someone with poor aim, but instead found A'sha had moved, using her own bow from above. She took out several as Darim leapt and drove his hidden blade into another.

Altair and Darim ran further toward the gate, but found their way blocked. Darim doubled back and moved up a low rise. Finding that way blocked as well they were forced to fight several. They then leapt from a wall to a roof and both did leaps of faith into a pile of hay. A'sha followed from the opposite roof.

Darim reached and helped her as she and Altair panted a moment, both feeling their age.

"I should have had my men come here." She said. "I was expecting to offer you allegiance, not have the Brotherhood set upon us."

He nodded. "I am sorry." He said. He looked up hearing Abbas shouting nearby

As they walked out, Darim looked grimly at his father. "Was it Abbas who killed my brother?"

"He killed your brother, Malik, and countless others."

"Malik is dead?" A'sha gasped.

Altair nodded. "Abbas murdered him this morning." He said softly. He touched her shoulder. "I grieve with you sister."

She touched his hand. "You lost Maria. It makes us even."

"Not something I ever wished to keep score upon." Altair said softly.

She nodded and hugged him. He wrapped an arm about her. Both were covered in blood. Some from minor wounds of their own, mostly from the blood of others.

"He is a madman." Darim hissed.

"A madman with an army." Altair said grimly seeing several assassins closing in on them.

"He will die. One day he will pay." Darim vowed as he made ready to fight.

Altair nodded his agreement as the managed to make it to a stable. There were two horses. A'sha took stock of this and took a breath, steeling herself for what was to come. She watched the men saddling the horses as she kept guard.

She then saw the assassin's gathering to the one side of the stable. She shut and barred the door, backing away from it as she readied her bow, a recurve, one she had favored for many years since she had first learned to hunt in these very hills.

The assassins hit the door, trying to find a way to open it.

A'sha nodded to them both behind her. "Fly, brother!" She told him.

Darim was saddling his mount. "Auntie. Come with us."

She shook her head and looked at her weapons. She had half a quiver of arrows and her arsenal. She looked up at her brother. "You must flee, Altair. If you die here, Abbas wins." She hissed. "Ride for Alamut." She turned to go up the ladder of the hay loft.

He caught her. "I lost you once. I will not lose another I love to this man today, sister."

She smiled. "I will guard your escape." She said. She then took his hand, kissing it. "I will see you again brother, either in this life or another! Now Go!" She barked, shoving him away as she moved to the ladder.

"A'sha!" He cried, but he then shook his head mounting the horse. He could bring her with him, they could ride for her people…

Darim and Altair broke through the barn door together and out of the town gate.

As they rode from the city gate they could hear Abbas' yell behind them. "I will have the Apple, Altair! And I will have your HEAD for all the dishonor you have brought upon my family! You cannot run forever! Not from us and not from your lies!"

Above them, A'sha took a breath and fired an arrow. It landed in his back. Not a fatal shot, but a warning. He whirled looking about. He then saw her above him.

However, he did not see what she did. Shadows, given form moved about the area, waiting, watching for her signal. Her Order was here.

His voice faded as they galloped away.

Darim spurred his horse closer and looked into Altair's face with concern. "Father?"

Altair sat low, hunched, on the verge of tears. Darim had never seen his father so. He swallowed as he heard his father murmur. "Maria. My love…"

"Come father." Darim said gently. "We must ride on." He said.

Altair looked up at him a moment. He then nodded. His son was right.

With a supreme effort, Altair kicked his horse into a gallop, and they sped away, specks disappearing into the forbidding landscape that was the Levant.

ZzZ

A'sha dropped down from the loft, dropping low as her older body took the impact. She rose to her feet and looked at him grimly. "Your reign is at an end, Abbas."

"A'sha. Good to see you live."

She flexed her hands, hidden blades springing forth. She lifted a hand upward and four of her dark clad assassins dropped behind her, all ready with weapons.

Abbas gasped in shock. "What is this?"

She smiled grimly. "Your end!"

There were only a small group of them. However, there were too many Masyaf assassins, even for A'sha's elite masters. She signaled them to retreat as she found herself trapped against the fortress on the other side of them.

Abbas smiled. "There is nowhere to run, A'sha. Come let us speak."

"I have little to say to you." She said backing away.

She kept backing up the watch tower. The assassins made no move to attack her, but she moved, backing from them, feeling her many small hurts. The same tower so many years ago her brother had leapt from to prove his devotion as well as to spook Robert De Sable. Altair had been able to then release the logs and scatter the Templars.

She backed onto a platform. The wood quivered under her weight.

She was surrounded before her. Abbas lifted a placating hand to her. "Come away from there, A'sha. We can speak. I promise you will be able to leave her alive if you hear me out." He had her again. He needed her to see reason. He could win the other assassins who were on the fence about him if he was able to marry the sister of their former mentor.

She shook her head. "Murderer. I have nothing to treat with you about. You killed my husband and Maria. You kill any who stand against you."

She had moved to the edge. Her heels were in free space as she looked at them. "Do you know what it means to live the Creed, Abbas?"

He blinked. "A'sha. Come away from there at once!"

"To know how to show your devotion to it." She smiled at him.

"A'sha. Don't do it!" Abbas gasped. "I command you as this Order's leader not to take another step!"

She smirked at him and then put out her arms. With a deep calming breath, she dropped backwards.

Abbas shrieked in horror as she showed no fear and fell from the tower, committing suicide rather than help him gain control and peace.


	23. The Devil You Know

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 23 – The Devil You Know

A'sha woke from a dream.

A nightmare of sorts. She had dropped from the platform in an apparent suicide. However, she had survived, but her brother was again separated from her. With like he was on his way with Darim to Alamut.

She looked about. Hatice and Sitt came into focus at her bedside. She smiled at them as Sitt offered her tea.

"Mother." She smiled a little.

Hatice took a breath. Her mother had survived.

ZzZ

She had woken from her fall, finding herself bruised, lying in moldy hay that no one had changed and seen to in years. However, it had broken her fall enough for her to survive. She took a deep breath feeling the strain on the back of her ribs.

She coughed a little looking upwards. She blinked to clear her head. She knew she needed to moved lest they find her and bring her back to Abbas.

She rolled from the hay to her hands and knees. Again, she took a deep breath and winced at the feeling. She then looked about. She moved, finding the thin rope bridge that spanned the canyon. She put her foot on it experimentally. She then heard noises. People were coming.

She moved onto the bridge and moved across in the acrobatic way of a master assassin. It swayed and she made it to the other side. She crouched seeing assassins coming toward the hay pile. With a heavy she cut the rope against a rock and it fell to the other side of the gorge nearly soundless.

She then moved, ducking behind an outcropping holding her ribs She watched the assassins looking for her body and then looking over the edge of the gorge to the water far below. Soon they abandoned looking for her and turned back to the fortress as the was setting.

A'sha took a breath and walked, moving between the boulders as she made it to the canyon mouth. She moved, looking for her family who would have been camped near the river waiting. She ducked down to drink the crystal-clear water that tasted fresh.

She heard something, rising slowly to her feet. She turned to face the assassin coming to her.

Umar lifted his hand. "Hail mother."

She had nodded. She stepped to him, the adrenaline leaving her body as she staggered.

"It is all right." He gasped, grabbing her to him. "I have you mother." He said. He lifted her in his arms and moved, calling for help.

Her eyes closed looking at the worried faces of her family as they laid her on a low sleeping pallet to rest.

She had remained there for three days until she woke. She took a breath wincing as she sat up.

"You have at least three cracked ribs mother." Hatice chided as she looked at her. "I was worried."

"How are you here?" A'sha asked.

She smiled. "I came to see how the transition had gone."

"Clearly it did not." A'sha said sitting up.

"Abbas must pay for this, mother." Sitt said standing, lifting her knife she had been sharpening.

"In time." A'sha said. "We need stronger numbers first."

Sitt hissed.

ZzZ

A'sha had survived well enough.

Four years passed.

Al-Kamil with his indominable cousin at his side and her assassins, he had retaken Damietta from the Crusaders. The Crusaders did not go far, determined to retake their foothold. They were now under the command of a Papal Legate by the name of Pelagius. The Italian cardinal was a strategist, but also had a strong fervor to convert the Muslims and end the Crusades.

Naturally, the Muslims and Al-Kamil would have none of this.

However, tonight, they were celebrating the retaking of the town. A'sha, now sixty-two, stood looking out over the yet blockaded harbor. The citizens of Damietta had suffered greatly, some of them had converted just to be able to have food. Al-Kamil had thought to execute every Christian in the city after they retook it, but his cousin, as always, cooled his temper, explaining that the death of innocents, especially those who had only wished to feed themselves and their families would not help their cause. In fact, it would do them harm.

Al-Kamil agreed, realizing that most of the Christians were in name only, adopting the hair styles and clothing to be mimic the Crusaders and their ways so as not to starve. With Damietta returned to its proper ruler, they returned to their ways almost overnight.

Again, to A'sha this illustrated how fragile religion was and why the Creed was a far better alternative. She had spoken to Al-Kamil long about the points. He agreed with her. He also agreed, when the Templar Crusader blight was removed, to send his army with her to Masyaf to demand Abbas either step down from the Order or be removed. She did not hide her hatred for the man and told her cousin he would not be returned to stand trial. He would be executed for his crimes against the Order and the Creed.

Also she would claim the bodies of Sitt the Elder, Umar the Elder, Malik, Maria, Sef, and Kadar the Elder. Or at least the ossuaries of Malik, Maria, and Sef. They would be reburied with full honors in Alexandria away from the tyranny of Abbas.

She walked in from the castle battlements and smiled seeing the revelry. She smiled as her son brought her grape juice to drink. She smiled at Kadar as he moved to join his wife. A'sha watched them go from under her cowl. Normally not one to celebrate so, she found the atmosphere light and airy as the breeze that came in through the windows and lightly moving her robes.

She looked about the group, but then noticed one in their number she did not know. By his dress he was not one of Al-Kamil's men. He was an Italian and a Venetian at that. What was a Christian doing in their number? And why was he so friendly with Hatice who was speaking to him and sharing a plate?

A'sha narrowed her eyes.

Moving through the guests she maneuvered to stand near Umar who was speaking to some of the guests. Without pulling him to the side, she faced away from Hatice and spoke to him lowly. "Who is that with your sister?" She asked.

Umar turned his head slightly, eyes flicking to see before he looked back to those of the circle who were discussing what kind of man the new infidel leader was. They would test his mettle soon enough. He shook his head. "I did not think she would have brought him here."

"What?" She asked, eyebrow arching.

He pursed his lips a little and then sighed. "That is Domenico Alighieri." He said lowly.

She stood waiting as she folded her arms. She then nodded at a joke that one of the generals had said and she laughed to lifting her glass in a salute. "Red be his robes. Shall we see if he bleeds like the rest of us?" She asked.

The generals nodded and lifted their own glasses to her and smiled.

Her eyes looked back to Umar who swallowed. He nodded at the question in her eyes. "She met him two years ago in the harbor." He looked down. "He is the leader of the Tripoli pirates." He said watching her face.

"How did a Venetian manage that?" She asked.

"Apparently he had much skill with a blade and defeated the leader and took his place."

"And just what the hell does he want with your sister?" A'sha asked looking back, but pretending to look toward the window, alert as always as an assassin. As she turned back Kadar caught her look and walked to her smiling as he dipped his head in respect to her as both mother and Mentor.

"What is it mother?" Kadar asked.

"The pirate. I wish to speak to him and your sister…apart." She said before turning to leave the room.

Umar and Kadar nodded, excusing themselves from their conversation. They would have need of Sitt and others of the family. At a practiced signal, Sitt and her Hebrew husband both appeared to the side lifting a plate to gather more fruit. Nassar smiled at his wife and lifted a grape to her lips. He then lifted a plate laden with fruit to his wife who turned.

She walked to her sister and bent. "Our mother has asked for figs and grapes on the terrace." She said coolly.

Hatice looked at her younger sister. "So why are you not bringing it to her then?"

Sitt dropped the plate into Hatice's lap. "She asked for you." She hissed.

Hatice grunted and dipped her head in apology to Domenico beside her. "Forgive me. Our mother's will must be followed. I will return shortly." She said in Italian rising with the fruit on the plate.

He bowed his head and nodded as he rose as well as she left. He watched her go. Umar and Kadar came to him.

"Welcome." Kadar said to him. "I have not seen you in our number before. Come, let us speak. Are you friend to my sister?"

Umar clapped a hand to his shoulder. "Domenico is a good sea captain. Come let us talk about what you think of this blockade." He said nodding to the Venetian.

Domenico nodded walking from the room with them, smiling at the acceptance of these men he knew to Hatice's brothers. His smile was short live as they walked to a balcony and Nassar was there, waiting. Domenico tried to back away as Nassar turned, holding his long and wicked looking Kris in his hand, but the two assassin men took hold of his arms and held him.

Sitt appeared from behind, using his back to vault over him and hand before she kicked high, foot catching his chest and knocking the wind from him. He dropped to his knees with a grunt as she moved, gagging him before he could make an outcry. He struggled a moment before he found himself looking at her hidden blade, microns from his Adam's Apple. As he swallowed, he felt the tip.

"Give me a reason, pirate scum." She hissed looking at him from her hood. Her dark hair framed her face as it fell loosely from her hood.

He looked at her. He then realized that one of her eyes was milky white and there was a scar that went in a thick line from her brow to her cheek. It gave her a gruesome appearance, especially this close and he wondered where she had come by that. It looked to be a fairly fresh scar. He had heard about Sitt. This sister was the one he had hoped to avoid. Notorious for her quick anger and deadly accuracy, he feared her more than her brothers who held him still.

She smiled at him. "Our mother will decide what is to be done with you." She smiled at him and then retracted her blade as she took his head in her hands and brought hers sharply to his. She smiled as he dropped.

Umar let him drop as Kadar smirked. "Nice hit, sis. He is clean out."

She shook her head, smiling, as Nassar stepped to her. She nodded at him. "Go to mother." She said to him. He nodded and moved to comply.

ZzZ

Hatice walked to the terrace where her mother was seated on a bench, out of sight from the party. She was sipping grape juice as she sat in the high garden looking out at the port.

Hatice came to her with the fruit. "Mother. I heard you asked for fruit."

"Ah, I did." She said nodding as she looked at her daughter over her glass. "Come, bring it here."

Hatice bowed her head and came, setting it beside her mother, but before she could rise to her feet, her head knocked to the side and the slap echoed against the walls. Tears came to Hatice's eyes as her hand went to her cheek as she gasped, blinking the stars before her eyes as she dropped to one knee.

"Stupid, stupid girl. Did you think I would not find out?" A'sha asked as she rose to her feet, looking down at her daughter.

Hatice looked up at her mother, a look of anger and horror in her eyes. "What do you mean?" She asked.

A'sha leaned closer. "Tell me, have you give yourself to that pirate yet?" She asked.

"He is not a pirate mother."

"You are avoiding my questions."

Hatice blinked and then narrowed her eyes. "What does that matter?"

A'sha grunted. "I will not have my daughter be a whore."

"I am not a whore mother."

"Are you not?" A'sha asked seeing that Nassar come to them, standing behind Hatice, watching.

"I married once for you, mother. Can I not marry for love?" She asked.

"Love!?" Her mother turned from her in exasperation.

Hatice moved to leave, but Nassar pounced, grabbing her arms and holding her steady. Hatice was startled. Unlike Sitt who had Malik's height, Hatice was built as her mother and had her blue eyes as Umar and Tazim had. Nassar was far taller having much the same build and height as Darim. After struggling a moment, she let him hold her still as they both looked at her mother.

"No daughter of mine may give themselves without having some profit in it for you and the Order."

"I get a husband." Hatice was weeping. Her cheek stung and she had no idea why her mother was acting so.

A'sha looked up to the sky above and then looked back at her. "The man I chose for you treated you well and you were happy. I know it took some getting used to, but…"

Hatice growled. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I value you far more than you do apparently." She smiled at her daughter. "You have made it easy for me." She looked down as she came forward. "Does he know?" She asked cupping the small swell that was now visible as Hatice stood bent slightly backwards against her brother-in-law.

Hatice shook her head, defeated. "No."

"Good." A'sha said. "Bring her." She said looking up at Nassar who nodded grimly as the Mentor walked to the gardens. She rounded a corner. As Nassar brought Hatice with him, Hatice gasped and tried to scream at the scene before her, but Nassar's hand clapped over her mouth.

Domenico was standing on a barrel, a noose about his neck, arms bound behind him. The rope was over a tree limb above him. Kadar and Umar held the end behind him. Sitt stood before him eyes glittering as she held a torch.

Domenico cried out breathily as he saw Hatice brought before him, held by the Jew. She had a darkening bruise on her face, but looked up at him defeated.

A'sha stepped forward pulling back her cowl and her veil down. "So, we meet at last Domenico Alighieri or should I call you by your rightful name, Tarik Bey." She said coolly.

He looked up, startled at this, but then nodded slowly. "How did you know me?" He asked.

"You have a high price on your head to come here. A daring move." She said. "Why do it?"

Domenico looked down at Hatice.

A'sha followed his gaze. "Ah. So you share her love for you."

"If you mean to kill me, get on with it Assassin." He growled.

She shook her head. "No." She said. "Not yet." She stepped to him, looking up at him. "How much do you care for my daughter?"

"She is everything." Domenico said. "I had hoped to bring her with me to Venice."

She nodded. "If I were to keep you alive, perhaps lift the bounty on your head, and allow you to marry my daughter, what would you do?"

His face was what she was looking for. He would do anything for that.

She nodded. "I want your pirates to cause problems for the Genoans and others in the region. We would naturally take a share of the profits, say ten percent." She said.

"You want me to help lift the blockade." He looked at her. It was a very good offer and he knew it. "What do I get in return for this?"

"Your life." A'sha said. She actually had a fair amount of respect for him. He had come to their party, unarmed, with his lover, to celebrate. He had not meant them any harm, just to be among those he would have as family.

He nodded. "I will do as you ask." He said softly. "Just leave her out of this." He said looking back at his lover.

A'sha smiled. Good man, protect your own. Perhaps he did deserve to be one of their number. She nodded back at Hatice as Nassar let her go. "Come then. Your bride and child will need you this evening." She said stepping back.

"Child…?!" Domenico gasped startled by this revelation. Kadar and Umar looked at each other. Sitt narrowed her eyes. Sitt made a face.

"Sitt…" A'sha growled lowly.

She sighed, looking like a child who had been robbed of her fun. She violently kicked the barrel back and as Domenico fell, eyes full of shock, she leapt up, slicing the rope. He dropped to his knees and coughed a little as Hatice went to him, pulling off the noose as she cried out. She cut his ropes. He pulled her to her feet, holding her protectively.

"What kind of monster are you?" He asked looking at A'sha who stood before him.

She cocked her head and smiled a little. "Your mother-in-law." She said playfully.

She then lifted her hand upwards. The others vanished from the area.

She bowed and walked away.

ZzZ

A'sha reported how to Al-Kamil that she had managed to marry her daughter for a second time and gain a navy of sorts in one swoop. The price on Domenico's head was lifted, at least in Egypt. Al-Kamil was amazed that he would not only gain money from this, but the privateers would keep the Italians at bay. Tarik had been born to a mother from Tripoli and a father from Venice. He browned darker in the sun than most Italians, but he passed for an Italian merchant. He had won the corsair fleet from a duel to the death.

However, within a week the blockade lifted, the smaller corsair ships sinking or harassing the larger ones of Genoa until they left, leaving the Crusaders to their fate, at least for now until they could regroup as well.

A'sha was in her bed.

Her dreams were uneasy. She dreamed of a crucifixion. She had never seen one since they had gone out of fashion after the time of the Romans, but she had read about the brutal death practice. She had also read the Bible of the Christians.

Only, she was in Jerusalem. She realized, to her horror, it was her, tied to the wooden beam. She gasped as she looked at the Roman who knelt beside her, lifting hammers and twin long ship nails. She struggled and found herself bound.

Two others were suffering a similar fate near her. As the nails were beaten into their wrists, the men screamed horribly. Then it was her turn.

She looked over, watching as the nail was not put through her wrist, but her hand. She cried out in pain at the burning feeling of metal going through flesh. The ends had been heated to allow them to pass more readily through her hands.

A'sha woke, crying out as she sat up in bed.

Her door flew open and Umar burst in followed by Nassar and Sitt. They all looked at her as she looked about wildly.

She then took a breath. Strange the pain persisted. She shook her head and looked about again, trying to collect her thoughts.

"It was a bad dream. Sorry." She managed as Sitt dropped onto her bed, looking at her mother.

"Mother…" She knew her mother at times had violent nightmares that stemmed from an attack she only recently spoke of to them.

A'sha shook her head. "I am fine."

"I will fetch you some wine." Nassar said moving to leave.

Umar had sheathed his weapon and cocked his head at his mother. "I have never heard you scream so mother. What happened?" He asked moving to the other side of her, looking a her.

She blinked. "I was…" She licked her lips. "Crucified."

"No one does that anymore." Sitt said gently.

Umar then seemed to see something. He reached, taking his mother's hand in his own. "Mother…what are these wounds?" He asked.

"What?" She asked.

He showed her.

A mark was in her palm.


	24. The Assassin, The Sultan, and The Saint

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 24 – The Assassin, The Sultan, and the Saint

A'sha hissed as she bound her hands with linen. The bandages did not allow her to properly grasp a sword, knife, or bow. Thankfully, she had her two hidden blades, hidden in the bracers that were concealed by her robes.

She pulled up her cowl feeling the strange wounds tug. They had a strange burning ache to them, but did not bleed. What the hell had caused this? She had told her son and daughter not to speak of it until she wished it known.

When asked by Al-Kamil, who noticed when she came into his court with Kadar and Sitt flanking her, she said only she had some joint pain of late and the physicians had told her to wrap them with oils and herbs. Al-Kamil accepted this as he watched her come to sit at his side. Domenico was there. He came and bowed to her.

He had wed Hatice in a small ceremony with family only, but he had realized that he was not with a family who knew the deadly arts. Umar and Kadar had threatened, as the ladies spoke of the dress Hatice wore, that they would castrate him and send him on a fire ship into his own fleet should he cause Hatice pain. Domenico, however, seemed to have honor, if that were possible for a pirate. Perhaps it stemmed from his richer upbringing in Venice. He was very intelligent and keen. He wished to join A'sha's Order, but for now they were watching to test his loyalty.

There was a stir at the back of the room. A messenger came forward and bowed.

"My majesty." He said. He was a courier for the army.

Al-Kamil nodded to him to continue.

"There are two men from Rome at the gate. They bear a white flag and say they have been sent by God and the Pope to speak to you."

Al-Kamil arched an eyebrow and then looked at his cousin who was silent as she sat watching. "Why would they wish to speak to me? They see me as a heathen infidel." He looked back at A'sha. "A trap do you think?"

A'sha shifted and hissed a little in pain as her hands ached. Sitt looked at her mother and laid a hand on her shoulder. A'sha shook her head, flexing her fingers outward. "What are they wearing?"

"The most nondescript clothing I have seen, my lady." The messenger said. "The only thing in the search we found were their holy books."

She looked at Al-Kamil. "Perhaps we should speak to them."

"Christians?" He asked.

"What harm can monks do us? Perhaps Pelagius is offering a surrender."

"And perhaps I can walk on water like their prophet." Sitt hissed to her mother quietly.

A'sha narrowed her eyes at her and elbowed her into silence.

Al-Kamil. "Very well, bring them to the court."

A'sha lifted a hand. "However, I would send Sitt, Umar, and Domenico as well."

Al-Kamil arched an eyebrow at the name of their new ally, but the pirate's head snapped up at his name being spoken. Domenico was a handsome man only three years Hatice's senior. Many of the ladies of Damietta found him attractive, but he tended to ignore such attentions, especially not that he was married into the Order. He had formally adopted Hatice's older sons as his own as well to which A'sha approved greatly.

A'sha nodded. "Allows our new ally to prove his allegiance and while Hatice and Umar are the only ones of my children who know any of the Italian tongue, but Hatice as you know is not having an easy pregnancy. However, Domenico was born and breed in Venice. He can speak to them."

Domenico came forward and bowed to them. "I would be honored to serve as translator for you."

She nodded.

Domenico then walked out with Sitt and Umar behind him. Umar and Kadar had somewhat warmed to the man after they realized the hadn't been trying to cause trouble. He merely was trying to come to know the people he knew would be family if he eloped with Hatice. He turned out to be very good at Hounds and Jackals as well Scarab. Kadar was happy to also have an equal playing chess. The pair would spend hours playing each other in the evening. Sitt had not particularly warmed to him, though she could speak to him civilly. Nassar generally spoke to no one unless spoken to. Both, as Umar told his new brother-in-law were like desert vipers. Handled with care they would not cause harm, but annoy them and the venom could be lethal. Yasmin and Khadijah, surprisingly were the most welcoming to him.

Domenico mounted a horse that waited for him, reaching down he offered a hand to Sitt. She looked at her brother who waved her over as he helped the messenger behind him. She grunted and then took the half-breed's hand and pulled herself up behind him. She wrapped her arms about his waist as he moved the mount to go to the main city gate.

She said nothing the whole way there. Domenico and Umar, however, were speaking about the monks with the messenger.

"There are many sects of holy orders." He said. "Augustinian, Knights Teutonic, Knights of the Red Star, Benedictines, Cistercians, Trappists, Carthusians, Dominicans, Franciscans…"

"So many?" Umar asked. "How are they all different if they all believe in your Creed?"

"They do not have a Creed as the assassins do. They have their Rules. They cannot marry, many live in poverty and supported by the community." Domenico took a breath. "The Franciscans are a new order much like the order of St. Claire." He took a breath. "They sound like Franciscans from their dress."

"And what is that?" Umar asked.

"They live under the Rule of Saint Francis. Three vows, obedience, poverty, and chastity. Like every monk they do not take wives."

"Perhaps I could join. Would save me many headaches when dealing with the fussy nature of my wife." Umar said.

Domenico stifled a laugh. "I do not think it works that way."

"Is your wife not with child Lord Umar?" The messenger asked.

"Yes. Both she and Hatice are." Umar smiled. "It will be an interesting summer to be sure."

They arrived at the gate.

The messenger dismounted and Umar followed him. Domenico turned offering his arm to help Sitt down. She looked at him strangely, but then allowed him to help her. He was only being polite. He dismounted after. The messenger saw to their horses.

Sitt stepped forward and as she stood in the full sunlight, Domenico saw she was ready for war. She had more weapons than her brother and hands on the knives at her sides. The three walked out of the gate. The two men were standing in the sun, watching, waiting. There was shade from the wall, but they had not taken it. Both looked a little bit stressed from the heat in their wool, but did not seem to be bothered by it as they both bowed their heads.

Umar stepped forward with Domenico at his side. "Brother, if you would be so kind as to welcome them to Damietta. We would welcome them at court." He took a breath. "Introduce us."

"They need water. The one with the curly hair looks ready to pass out." Sitt said in her mother's dialect to her brother.

He paused, but then went on ignoring her. "What are their names?"

Domenico spoke and the pair seemed startled that there was an Italian in their number. The pirate king of Tripoli had taken to dressing like his new family, dark clothing. He did wear his cross at his neck. He introduced those with him, nodding to each, and then cocked his head at them.

The taller, curly haired one who looked faint spoke. He was Francis from Assisi. With him was Brother Emilio from Rome.

Sitt stepped to her brother-in-law at that. He was also surprised at that. "Does that mean he is the leader of the Franciscans?"

Domenico nodded. "Yes. He is the one who founded them." He said slowly in Arabic.

She nodded and looked at the young men, both were nearly her age. She watched them. They looked like beggars, but they were not underfed. They were, however, very humble. Francis staggered a little and she moved to him.

"The sun is very hot here." She said softly to him and offered him a water skin.

Umar was startled at this. She normally resisted being near new people like a plague, but these men, she was taking an odd pity on.

Francis thanked her. He drank his fill and then passed it to Emilio who took it gratefully. Francis looked at the dark clad woman. He spoke and looked from her to Domenico.

Sitt looked back at her brother-in-law. "He asks what happened to your eye." Domenico said.

She lowered her hood revealing her thick dark hair and her fair face that was only marred by the cut and her cloudy eye. "Templars." She said evenly.

Francis blinked and then spoke, bowing his head.

Domenico nodded. "He said he is sorry for this and he hopes it does not cause you pain."

Sitt shook her head. "No. Not anymore." She said.

Francis seemed to understand and nodded.

Umar took a breath. "You have risked much to come here. Will you come, dine with us, share your stories?"

Francis nodded and reached onto his satchel at his side. Sitt stepped back a little hand going to her side as Umar's hand went to his sword. Emilio noticed the two assassin's becoming suddenly guarded and lifted his hands out speaking.

Francis froze, seeing the pair watching him. He lifted a hand and spoke in a placating manner as he lifted a book.

Sitt cocked her head. "What book is it?"

"His Bible." Domenico said.

"Like the Quran or Sunna?"

"Somewhat." He said nodding.

She relaxed and lifted her hand. "Can I see it?" She asked Francis.

He looked at her hand and then nodded. "Oh! Si, si!" He said handing it to her. It was thick, elegantly scripted in Latin on vellum. The outside was thick calf skin that was soft and well worn in her hands. She held the spine and let it fall open to a well-used page. There was a beautifully drawn illumination upon the page of Jesus Christ, standing, showing his wounds on his hands to his followers.

Sitt looked at it intently and then looked up at her brother. "Umar." She whispered. "Look." She said in the guttural dialect of Arabic the family would often speak to each other in.

He moved and looked to where she was looking. His breath caught. The placement of the wounds. They were hauntingly familiar to him. She nodded seeing the recognition on his face.

She then looked at the monk. She turned the book, reverently to him and then pointed to the illumination. "What is this?" She asked him.

Francis looked down and spoke. Domenico translated. "It is after the crucifixion, when Christ appeared to his followers to show he had risen from the dead."

"He is a ghost?" She asked curious.

"No, he is alive after being dead and buried for three days. He then ascended to heaven."

Sitt blinked. "How does someone cheat death. I do not understand."

Francis smiled at her. "I would love to tell you, Princess Sitt, if you allow me."

She giggled at this when Domenico translated for her. "Princess?" She asked. "Do I look like an empty-headed baby maker in my cousin's harem? I am an assassin monk! I…"

Domenico wisely did not translate this for the monks who watched curiously, shifting uneasily realizing they had perhaps insulted this woman.

"Sitt!" Umar barked and she took a breath wiping a tear from her eye. She still was amused by the thought.

"Did I misspeak?" Francis asked.

Umar smiled at the mistake. "My sister is a Lady at court, not a princess." He said lifting a hand to show that they took no offense to this.

"Oh! You are sister and brother? That explains why you look so alike." Francis said nodding.

Sitt passed the book back to him, but then smiled. "Can I look at this more, Francis?" She asked. "I find the drawings very pretty. I do not know the words."

"Latin is not really known in the Muslim world, no." Emilio nodded. "We could teach you."

"You are teachers?" Sitt asked.

"Yes. Of God's word." Francis nodded.

Umar nodded. "We are also teachers of a kind."

"What do you teach? Combat?" Emilio asked.

Umar's lip quirked as Domenico translated. "The Creed."

"The Lord's Creed?" Emilio asked startled. "Like the Lord's Prayer?"

"The Assassin's Creed." Umar corrected.

"What are assassins?"

"The Hashashin, the Hidden Ones." Umar explained. He smiled. "Come we can speak of your God and we can discuss our Creed over dinner. I am sure you are in need of food."

"We fasted all day hoping that we would gain entry for the sacrifice to God, meager as it is." Francis said. "At sundown we will break bread with you."

Sitt blinked. "No wonder why he is so faint." She hissed at her brother. She then looked at Domenico. "Do you celebrate Ramadan as well? Is that why he is fasting?"

"Christians, especially those who have taken holy orders will fast for many reasons. Lent, prayer, dedication, asking for an interlude…" Domenico explained.

"But to starve yourself makes you weak and can cause death." Sitt protested. "Why would you do such harm to yourself? Such blind faith can cause your ruin."

"Indeed sister." Domenico turned to the monks and spoke nodding to them to follow the three into the city. Sitt pulled her cowl back up and nodded. She mounted a horse. Her brother also.

She leaned down as Francis walked in, seeing the guards of the city watching them wearily, but making no move to harm them. She offered her hand to him and lifted her foot from the stirrup. He baulked a moment at that. She beamed. "What? You cannot even ride with a woman?"

"I am sure he would prefer not." Domenico said nodding that he had a courier who asked to join them heading to the fortress castle. He spoke and Francis took a breath debating on walking, Sitt was for certain. Emilio was behind Umar. Francis then reluctantly took the hand of the warrior woman. He could not wait to write about this woman who seemed to have as much warrior nature and questions as the men. She pulled him up behind her. He wrapped his arms about her and looked back at Domenico speaking in a worried tone.

Domenico answered and then smiled at Sitt's questioning look. "Apparently, he had no objection to riding with you sister, but he finds horses to be a bit tedious after many long days on horseback in his youth in the army."

She nodded. "I see." She said. She looked down at his bare knees and smiled a little. "Well if he is bare all the way up I could imagine the saddle sores would be terrible."

Umar and Domenico both coughed to hide their laughs at this as she moved to ride ahead, moving though the streets with ease.

ZzZ

Once at the castle, Sitt smiled. "I will inform mother and Al-Kamil they are here." She said. She looked at Francis. "Be well, monk." She said in broken Italian as she bowed to the pair and moved to enter the castle.

Umar watched her go. Domenico leaned to him. "I have never heard her so friendly to anyone."

Umar nodded. "It is strange. Perhaps these men will do some good."

They walked into the castle together. Emilio and Francis marveled at the size.

"This is larger than the Papal fortress in Rome." Emilio said in wonder. "These stones are beautiful. Where do you find such white stone?" He asked Umar.

Umar waited for the translation and then nodded. "Up the Nile many miles. The quarries are near Thebes."

"A wonder." The monk said touching them.

They came to the throne room where the chamberlain knocked on the stone floor to gain the attention of everyone. "Lord Umar would like to present to your most reverent majesty, Francis of Assisi and Emilio of Rome."

Al-Kamil sat up seeing the Italians there. He took in their dress. Rough spun gray wool. Their hair was worn to their neck, but the top had been shaved in a bowl shape. On their feet were leather sandals. They had the dust of the road on them still, but their heads were high.

Beside him A'sha had just finished speaking to Sitt in a low guarded tone. A'sha hissed feeling her wounds flare as if someone had wicked them with flames. She blinked started by the pain, but fought it down.

"Welcome to my court." Al-Kamil greeted rising to his feet. Domenico moved to the side to translate.

"Thank you, your highness." Francis said as he bowed low with Emilio. "Peace be upon you." He said in slow Arabic.

Al-Kamil nodded approvingly. "And upon you." He looked down and nodded to his cousin. "A'shadieeyah bint Umar-La'Ahad." He said her name fluidly in Arabic. She rose to her feet and nodded dipping her head to them.

Francis stepped forward to her. The guards drew swords, but Umar barked for them to stay their blades. He meant no harm. Francis continued and then looked at the woman. Her blue eyes were startling. He touched her hand and bowed. "My Lady." He greeted, bowing as he would a high-born lady in a European court.

A'sha was startled, but more startled that when he touched her, she had no pain. She blinked curious at this, but then recovered. "Welcome." She said.

Al-Kamil noted the man was treating her as he likely would a queen. A'sha was close enough to that in his court, second only to him. She may as well have a title, only it did not exist. Sultans did not have consorts in the Middle East. They had many wives and concubines whose status was risen on the births of children, whether the children were male or female, and if the sultan bedded them often. Al-Kamil had a harem of some thirty women, smaller than his father, but he was at war enough, making children was less of a priority to him than expelling the crusaders. That being said, he had twenty children, six of whom were boys, the eldest of them, stood near his father even now, a man in his mid-twenties with two wives of his own.

Umar then nodded. "I suggested that they be allowed to refresh themselves and join us for dinner at sundown."

"A good idea." Al-Kamil nodded. He looked at the chamberlain. "See to their needs. Umar, can you make sure that it is only the men who attend them. I have heard monks are very unsure about women alone in rooms with them."

Umar nodded and bowed.

He nodded to the pair to follow him.

ZzZ

The feast was more food than the monks had seen in the better part of a year. Francis found himself seated between Lady A'shadieeyah and Lord Umar. Across from them sat Domenico with Lady Sitt and a very pale lady between them who was clearly with child. Umar had a woman beside him who was also carrying a child. On the other side of the older lady was Al-Kamil. Emillio was seated near several of the others and was trying to use his limited Arabic to ask for things and thank people. Everyone was good natured about it and corrected him gently.

Francis answered the questions put to him by Al-Kamil as they ate. Domenico translated for them, though Francis tried his limited words as well. It was strange. He could barely say thank you, but he knew words for God and enlightened.

Al-Kamil looked at his cousin. "I take many things on faith, Francis. For example. My cousin here. Her assassins and her Creed. Once I thought that she was as dangerous as she is beautiful. I know, while this is true, she has a code of honor that cannot be shattered." He took a breath. She also saved my life and my family."

"Lady A.. A'shadyah…" Francis began and Sitt snickered a little.

"A'shadieeyah. Ae-shh-ah-die-yeah." Sitt said slowly for him.

He repeated it, a bit of crimson appearing on his cheeks. "Forgive me."

A'sha chuckled lightly and held up her free hand as the other held a fig. "My family and friends call me A'sha." Her bright eyes danced. "You may call me also, monk."

He bowed his head. He looked at her hand curiously. She had it bound which made him curious, but the left hand she had lifted was missing a finger. "Forgive me for staring my lady, but you are missing a finger."

She smiled and nodded and clenched her fist. Her left hidden blade, triggered by the ring on her finger, flicked from its housing with a soft snick. He jumped back in awe and surprise as she held it up before him. "I was…teached as assassin from born." She said using her limited Italian, though she had been practicing. "The…" She looked at her son-in-law and spoke quickly to him.

He nodded. "The Levantine assassins." He said in Italian.

"Ah. The old Levantine Assassins marked so." She said flicking the blade back. "Taken for knife to come out." She smiled at him. "Mark. Easy to…know. Altair end. Make so no sacrifice…" She spoke to Domenico again.

"Yes that is correct mother." He said. She was trying so hard to speak to this monk.

She nodded. "No sacrifice need." She lifted her right arm and showed the modern second blade she had to the wonder of the two monks.

ZzZ

Two weeks later, Al-Kamil and A'sha were walking in the gardens of the fortress, the fountains deep to provide water as wells under siege.

The three spoke long about the Bible, Jesus Christ, The Creed, and the Quran.

"Nothing is true, everything is permitted seems rather cynical, Lady A'sha." Francis said. "Jesus forgives everything. In him there is little need for such work as you did when you were younger."

She smiled a little under her sheer veil, eyes dancing. "Perhaps, but there has been much death in his name in this land. If he truly meant to save the land, would he have not come back now, have peace once and for all."

"Perhaps he waits until the land is ready to welcome him."

"That does not make much sense." She said. "But you ask about the Creed. It is not doctrine, but observation on the humans of the land. To say that nothing is true, is to realize that the foundations of society are fragile, and that we must be the shepherds of our own civilization. To say that everything is permitted, is to understand that we are the architects of our actions, and that we must live with their consequences, whether glorious or tragic." She said.

He blinked. "By your logic, you can live by this Creed and yet be Christian."

"Or Muslim, Jewish, or live by the Creed itself and its tenants."

"But surely, there is more than this. His majesty had told me much of the Quran and the Sunna, but the Creed seems to be so simple and yet complex." Francis said.

"Three tenants, three ironies." She said. "Simple enough."

"I know the three tenants, but what at the ironies."

"Ah." She said lifting her hand. "One. The Assassins seek to promote peace, but commit murder. The Assassins seek to open the minds of men, but require obedience to rules. The Assassins seek to reveal the danger of blind faith, yet practice it themselves." She said. "However, we bend the rules in service to a greater good. Do we truly? If we do, what does it say of us?" She cocked her head. "We are the hidden unholy warriors?"

"I do not see you as unholy, just a woman who requires forgiveness." Francis said.

"Were it that simple, monk." She lifted the Bible she held, strangely against her wounded hand, it did not hurt. "This is complex, though the laws of the tablets are not. Can these commandments not be viewed as a Creed in itself?" She asked. "Or perhaps the tenants to live by while the Creed would be something else?"

Francis cocked his head. "That is a very interesting point, my lady.

"From what you have told me, I could easily be Christian, but for the reason I have committed murder."

Al-Kamil smiled a little. "His logic is sound is it not cousin. He is not reckless like the Crusader leader. He is calm, collected, a voice of reason." He cocked his head. "Had you been born among my people you would have been the philosopher of the century."

Francis shook his head. "I am merely trying to spread the good word among those who wish to hear it."

A'sha took a breath. "All the lives I have taken, ordered, watched…how is it forgivable." She asked.

"But you lived by your Creed. You never took the life of an innocent." Francis said. He watched her. "Not that it matters. God forgives all. You only have to ask him."

She gasped as he wounds burned sharply. She nearly dropped the book his held.

"My Lady?" Francis asked looking at her.

Al-Kamil looked at his cousin. "A'sha, what is wrong?"

"Could you…kindly ask for fresh wraps and some of the salve your physician made for me?" She asked him softly.

"Of course." Al-Kamil nodded. "Stay here." He looked at Francis. "Can you stay with her?"

Francis nodded. "Yes." He said looking as the woman hissed and then set the book down gently before she pulled off her gloves and unwrapped the linen, looking at the angry marks on her hand. Francis gasped seeing them. "My lady!" He gasped.

She looked at him. "Yes?" She asked, teeth clenched.

"How did you come by these?" He asked reaching out. She gingerly allowed him to look. He then looked to the other, yet bound. Gently he unwrapped it, his fingers soft as he touched the wound that did not bleed, but clearly was causing her pain. As his fingers brushed it, the pain eased a little. "Do you know what these are?"

"A blight I have had for some time now…" She murmured.

"No." He shook his head.

"What are they? I have had a recurring dream. After the first time of the horrible death I witnessed, these appeared. My assassinations are clean, assassins like smoke. This was a terribly way to die." She shivered a little despite the warmth of the day.

"These are the marks of the crucifixion." He looked at her in awe and then lifted the Bible, finding the illumination Sitt had looked at. He looked up at her. "That was why Lady Sitt was curious. She had seen these wounds before…on you." He blinked. He leaned closer. "You may not believe a word I say, my lady, but God has a higher plan for you clearly, starting with joining him."

She gave him a strange look.

He stood up as Al-Kamil came back with the physician and Umar. "I must show Legate Pelagius these." He said nodding to her hands.

Umar looked at him. "You know what they are?" He asked.

"Yes. A sign that hope exists here." Francis said. "God is speaking to us all through action. Perhaps seeing these marks on a woman of the region, Pelagius will understand that there is no need to save a people God has been touching already."

A'sha blinked. "He is not the sort to give up that easily."

"No, but perhaps, the monk is right."

ZzZ

The next day, A'sha mounted a horse with Francis and Emilio riding another beside her. With her came Umar and Nassar as well as Domenico.

They came to the Crusader camp. Knowing they would be disarmed, they had come without weapons, though Domenico handed over his boot knife. He was fully aware the two master assassins were armed with hidden blades, but said nothing.

They were brought to the great tent of Pelagius. The cardinal was seated with two of his aide-de-camps flanking him. A'sha came in and walked forward to the chair before him and his table. She dipped her head lightly in greeting. The monks and Domenico bowed deeply. Nassar and Umar dipped their heads as well and moved to stand behind their mother.

Pelagius arched an eyebrow. He looked up at the monks. "Was this woman not informed how to appropriately meet a cardinal?" He asked in Latin.

"Since she is a princess of the land, I do not think she knows our ways, excellency." Francis answered.

Pelagius grunted. "These infidels never even wish to learn."

"Neither do you." A'sha said sharply in Latin causing both men to jump a little. She then cocked her head. "Or Italian if you prefer. This land is far happier when you Crusaders do not overrun it."

Pelagius blinked at her. "Forgive me, your highness." He said.

She leaned forward. "I will come straight to the point. My cousin, Malik Al-Kamil, Sultan of Egypt, offers you a peace treaty. He agrees to allow you to have the entire Kingdom of Jerusalem back to your people, except for Transjordan. He also has a gift." She nodded as Umar lifted an ornate box. "A piece of the True Cross." She said

Pelagius blinked seeing the old wood within. "And what in return for this gift?"

"You leave Egypt." She said simply.

Francis stepped closer. "This land is not lost to the Christians."

"No. In fact, we would have the Franciscans live as the custodians of the peace." She said nodding to Francis.

"Why would I ever agree to that?"

She lifted her hands. "Because I speak the truth." She said showing him her palms.

Pelagius gasped. "The stigmata." He murmured. He sat back. "Why is it on an infidel woman?"

She smiled. "Perhaps because I am not an infidel after all."

Pelagius shook his head. "Compelling as all this is, I cannot accept. My orders are to free the Holy Land of the Muslim rule."

She smiled and nodded. "Stubbornness must breed in those of Italia." She said. She rose to her feet.

"What? Wait?" Pelagius gasped. He looked at Francis who looked at the woman.

"Francis." She said. "I need a favor from you." She said. She then looked back at the Legate. "I wish you well. Pray that God does not take offense to your words." She said and left.

Pelagius sat back and looked at his men. "This is what happens when you send a woman. They are too unpredictable."

Emilio took a breath. "I would count yourself fortunate, cardinal."

"What? You dare to speak to me monk?" Pelagius hissed.

Emilio dipped his head. "You are aware you were in the presence of A'sha, sister of Altair, the most feared assassin of Masyaf." He said. "You are very fortunate. She could have killed you here and now and there would have been nothing of this Crusade, but dust." He bowed and turned. "God stayed her hand."

"God would never allow his humble servant to be killed."

"Yes. Just as though he did not allow many Crusaders of rank fall to a man in a white hood who came like the angel of death." Emilio walked out.

Pelagius grunted.

One of his men bent. "I had to say it, but he is right, cardinal." He said. "That woman is Al-Kamil's cousin, both are family to Saladin. She has just as much blood on her hands, if not more than her brother. She let you live."

"Should I have agreed to the terms then?"

"Perhaps." The man said. "God has a plan for her. She bears the stigmata. The first to have it after Christ himself. Is it not a sign that the Holy Ghost is near?"

"It is." Pelagius sighed. "But on a heathen woman…"

"God is mysterious in all he does, cardinal."

"Amen."

ZzZ

A'sha was on her knees in the Nile, outside Damietta. Francis was beside her, robes kilted to his knees, with many standing about to witness. Francis spoke in Latin and then nodded to A'sha, who took a deep breath. He covered her face and pushed her backwards into the water.

She rose to her feet, wet, but smiling.

Domenico came to her with a towel as she beamed. He embraced her. "Welcome mother."

Francis looked at her and then smiled. "Lady A'sha look." He said.

She looked down at her hands. The angry marks were gone, washed away as her sins as Francis had said. She blinked at him in confusion.

He smiled. "I think God was just trying to tell you something."

She laughed and they all walked back to the town.

ZzZ

Nearly a week had passed.

Al-Kamil, his family, and the assassins withdrew to al-Mansourah, a fortress further up the Nile to await their next idea to come to fruition.

Sitt, the stealthiest of her siblings, crept into the Crusader camp. She passed the guards, walking though the tents until she came to Pelagius's tent. She slipped in to avoid a guard.

She found the tent darkened. She let her eyes adjust before she moved. There were two servant cots. She made it through the maze to the back part where the cardinal slept. Death was too easy for this man to learn his lesson.

She then set the plate down with the fresh scones in the shape of the assassin symbol with a letter. The letter explained that nothing was true and everything was permitted. This was no assassination attempt, but a warning.

Egypt was where the plagues had happened once, they could again.

After watching the snoring man for a moment, then she shook her head, vanishing like smoke into the night with ease. Moonless, the sands were dangerous, but she made it to the Nile.

There, her brother and two of Al-Kamil's sons stood awaiting her.

The elder prince nodded as she joined them. He gave a signal. Together, the head-gates were lifted releasing the Nile. The Crusaders had no chance. On the flood plain, they would soon find themselves in a couple feet of water if not more.

Sitt nodded to the men and turned to leave, clapping Kadar on the shoulder as they went to go back to Damietta.

After a week of being in waist deep water and being feed by the sultan of Egypt, Pelagius finally agreed to give up the siege and go back to Italia. An envoy met him on the road to Jerusalem and signed a peace treaty that would hopefully last for some time.

Francis had said his goodbyes to Al-Kamil and A'sha. He promised never to forget them and he would teach the lessons he had learned. A'sha and her assassins stood fists over their chests, a mark of respect for the man.

She would not forget him.


	25. The Master Returns

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 25 – The Master Returns

A'sha had mostly retired from the life of an assassin.

She still had her hidden blades, mostly now because she had been so used to their weight that to not have them made her feel strangely naked. Her sword, a gift from her brother, she had given to Kadar as leader of the Thebes Bureau. Umar led the assassins in Acre. Sitt was in charge of the Bureau in Alexandria. Hatice and Domenico had founded and led a Bureau in Tripoli.

She had begun to research more. Being a Christian, she had become more contemplative in her older life. She had researched much of the history of the Origins of the Assassins in Egypt. They had fought for Cleopatra and then left her cause after she had betrayed them all. Strange how such things went.

She lived quite well on the stipend that her cousin Al-Kamil provided her and his sons, Al-Adil II and al-Malik al-Salih continued the tradition. However, when Shajar al-Durr, the widow of Malik al-Salih, took over the Sultanate, she was not keen on the assassins in her realm.

However, as she tried to keep her husband's death a secret during the 7th Crusade, A'sha's influence became invaluable. After the defeat of the crusaders, Turan Shah, son of Malik wished to have the Sultanate, but he had never been trusted by his father and after Sitt had caught him drunk and beating a concubine senseless, his grip on power was less and less.

In early May, A'sha herself assassinated the young prince, clearly showing whose side, she was on. The Prince had offended the woman who was still as lithe as a cat and though no longer had the stamina of her youth, now being in her seventies, she still proved that her skills had not diminished. She had driven her hidden blade into his neck as she came behind him, hand over his mouth to cover his breathy scream as she severed his spinal cord. She felt his life ebb as she let him fall backwards into a chair. When he was found, the guards knew this work. The Needle had been there.

A'sha returned with a blood-stained feather to the Sultana, pledging the loyalty of her Order. Shajar al-Durr was grateful and also married Izz al-Din Aybak and with his support had the backing of the Assassins and the Mamluk army. Both rulers had a healthy respect and fear of the assassins who were the Hidden Ones of Egyptian lore.

A'sha was greeted with a surprise. It was winter and with the snows that had not fallen in Alexandria in more than thirty years, came Miriam, Sef's widow, mother of Khadijah sometimes called Fatima, Yasmin, Selima who faithfully were full members of the Order, and Darim, elder son of Altair. Yasmin was with Umar in Acre and Khadijah remained in Alexandria. Selima had learned from her uncle Darim.

Darim had spoken to A'sha about how Altair had become so depressed and angry had could no longer have loved ones about him. Alamut had seen the once proud leader of the Brotherhood become a shell. Darim had another surprise. He wished to marry Miriam, but in the traditions of his mother, Maria who had been an English Christian. He had many questions about how things were.

Since A'sha was a Christian convert, she spoke to them both about how the Creed did not conflict with the values of Christianity and the forgiving God would forgive them all their trespasses. The ideas and ideals appealed to Darim and Miriam as they had to A'sha. Having her there to answer their questions was very helpful and tipped them in the direction Darim had been seeking for some time. Answers to the greatest questions, much of which, he found in the well-worn Bible his aunt had, a last gift from Francis to her before he left the Holy Land. Though Francis had sadly died only four years after being in Egypt, Emilio had returned to preach the word and to be the personal chaplain of sorts to A'sha. He had helped A'sha learn more Latin and she helped him learn Arabic and Egyptian to speak to those about him.

Emilio baptized both Darim and Miriam and the following week, married them. It was a celebration for the family. Miriam then remained with the Assassins in Alexandria and was reunited with both her daughters. Darim, however, felt a calling, a strange wanderlust, as though his tasks were not yet done. He left his family in the care of A'sha and Sitt and traveled to Europe, traveling to France, England, Spain, and Italy.

He sent letters often. Bringing word of the Bureaus he founded and what the lands were like. A'sha used one of her husband's maps to pin where Darim traveled to show the Assassins. She used string to map the route, amazed at the distances.

Then another letter came, calling for aide.

It was from Altair.

He was going to reclaim the Brotherhood.

And he wanted the help of his family.

Most of all, his sister.

ZzZ

Altair stood looking up at the town and fortress of Masyaf.

They had fallen into shambles while he had been away. Too long had he been away from his birthplace and the Order. Twenty years he had been in Alamut.

Ten years before, Darim had left Alamut with Sef's widow and her third daughter to travel to Alexandria. He had sent word that A'sha was alive and well and that instead of grieving for his mother and his aunt, to come and celebrate the life there.

Slowly this had dragged the once proud assassin mentor from his depressed state. He again started to learn from the Apple, learning to make weapons, learning to make armor, learning about a cave that was from the ancient ones at Alamut. There he found memory seals that he could imprint with memories.

He sent a letter asking for the aide of his sister and her assassins. He had wondered if she even remembered him. He was in his eighties and she would be late seventies. Perhaps her children would bring word if she had died and aide him.

He took a breath and moved to a well to drink. The elder man sat down at a well on the outskirts of town. Looking all the world like a hermit he sat on a bench. The sun was warm even if the air was cooler. It was inviting and so Altair laid down on the stone and shut his eyes.

A gentle touch to his shoulder made him jump awake. He looked up and resisted the urge to threaten the man over him with his hidden blade. He shifted and sat up.

"Are you well, stranger?" The man asked. He had never seen this stranger before, dressed as a hermit.

"Yes, thank you." Altair said. He looked and noted the sun had shifted. He had been sleeping for at least two hours. He looked as the man drew up water and offered him a drink. "What is your name?"

"Mukhlis." The trader said.

"Thank you for the water."

"You are welcome."

Altair looked about. "What has happened here? This town used to have such life."

"This place has been taxed so badly, few people still live here. Did you come from here?"

"But the assassins…"

"Hide in their fortress and never are with us. They do not even protect us anymore."

"A sad turn of events." Altair said. Mentally he could not believe this had happened. The assassins had kept a covenant with the town, security for food and aide. Abbas had let this place become a literal hell. He took a breath. "It is not as I remember it."

"Indeed." The man looked at him, his eyes bright. "Were you born here?"

"Aye, but I moved away some time ago. It is amazing how things change.

"Yes." The trader nodded. "And not always for the better."

They spoke for a time and Mukhlis found the stranger interesting at least to talk to until he heard horses. He rose to his feet. "You should go."

"Go?" Altair asked blinking.

"Yes."

"Why?"

It remained unanswered as some cutthroats came on horseback. Altair sat seething a moment. Such riffraff would not have been allowed near the citizens when he was Mentor. What had Abbas done to these poor people?

Mukhlis looked up as the leader, Bayhas, jumped down from his mount. The other two with him remained on their horses. "Well met Bayhas." He said softly.

"You have not paid your rent old man."

"I have paid it to your father." Mukhlis said evenly.

"Not to me." The younger man hissed.

"I will not pay you more." The trader said defiantly. "I have paid my due. More would cause my family to starve."

"So be it, Long Hair. Cut a finger so he remembers who his betters are."

A man jumped down. His long hair went down to past his hips. He drew a dagger as the other man came up and took a hold of the trader. Mukhlis gasped. "No…I can pay…"

"Too late now…" Bayhas said. He nodded and the other two tied rope around the trader's ankles and hung him up from a tree laughing at the man's misery as he struggled.

Altair drew himself up to his full impressive height. "Release him." Altair, even older, still stood several inches above the men before him.

All four looked up at him.

Bayhas laughed. "Or you will do what grandfather?" He asked laughing.

Altair moved swifter than any other them had though possible and he sliced up and in the two directions, removing the third bandit's throat before he could scream in pain. He dropped gurgling as Altair faced the other two. He had not known battle in more than two decades and he was feeling it, but he was not about to allow these sad excuses for human beings know that.

Long Hair and Bayhas looked at each other and then noticed as Altair drew his sword, sheathing his right hidden blade, that his left hand was missing a finger.

An assassin of the Levant!

They had an agreement with Abbas not to kill the assassins, but this one had taken first blood and stood watching them, his dark eyes glittering under his hood that was low over his face. The two bandits closed and Altair soon realized his age was getting the better of him. This would have been an easy fight for him even when he left Masyaf twenty years ago, but now he was out of breath. However, he refused to give in.

They cut him and he gasped feeling the sting of the cuts and feeling the loss of blood impacting him far more than he thought it should. He blinked feeling himself becoming light headed. The trader swung sensing danger for his savior as he dropped to his knees.

Altair shook his head trying to clear it. He narrowly avoided a hit from a knife as he parried it away with his sword. The trader grabbed Bayhas. The bandit was startled and Altair stabbed upwards, hitting the man in his belly. The man fell as it cut his internal organs and arteries.

Mukhlis caught the bandit leader's dagger in midair as it dropped and he reached up to cut his legs free.

He blinked as he heard foot falls, but then noticed there were two others there. Two in hoods of dark blue black, like a moonless night, standing swords in hand, watching Long Hair carefully. One was female, one eye clouded and scarred. The other was a younger man, but both were in their forties. However, by the weapons they carried, they were not just travelers of the road.

Mukhlis dropped, but picked himself up and stood with them before Altair. The smaller of the two, but the better armed stood watching the man. The figure was clearly female by voice and bosom under her dark robes spoke clearly in Arabic. "Your move, though it would be foolish to take on three of us."

Long Hair hissed and made to take on the woman, but she parried the blow easily, catching his hand and throwing him backwards. He landed on the earth, startled as she drew her bow. Notching an arrow, she watched him from under her hood. He then jumped onto his horse to ride off. The female nodded and turned back to the pair. "Bandits are always cowards."

"We are in your debt, my lady." Mukhlis said.

She shook her head and lifted a hand. "There are no debts, my friend."

Her left hand was not missing a finger as the older man had, but she too had a bracer of a similar make and with a movement of her ring finger, the blade that had been extended disappeared. So, she was an assassin also. She dropped down beside the hermit gently and touched his face.

"Can you hear me?" She asked softly. The man's eyes were looking up at her as though he could not quite make sense of her. "What is your name?" She asked urgently.

Altair's eyes shifted and looked back behind her. The form of the younger man still haunted Altair's dreams from many years ago. The younger man looked exactly like… "Sef…" He gasped and then dropped backwards into the arms of the trader.

Sitt looked up at Umar behind her. Her brother, now forty, looked at his sister questioningly. "What did he say, sister?" He asked in Egyptian.

She shook her head and touched Altair's pale face. "Uncle." She whispered. She looked up at the trader. "Is there anywhere we can take him?" She asked before moving to look at his leg. She sucked in her breath. He had lost much blood.

"Yes, my lady. My family would be honored to care for him." He smiled. "I am Mukhlis. I am a trader."

"Sitt." She said. "My brother, Umar."

Mukhlis looked at them both. They were both assassins. Umar's weapons were now clear as he knelt beside his elder sister and they spoke together urgently in a guttural tongue that the trader did not know as the woman checked to see how deep the cut was.

He nodded. The woman looked at her brother. "Get rid of these two and then come join us." She ordered softly.

Umar nodded. A Bureau leader as she was, her equal, he did not like taking orders, especially from his sister, but in this case, she was right and he knew it.

He nodded. "Of course, sister."

Sitt helped the trader lift the dead weight of Altair into the trader's cart. She jumped in and began to tend his wounds as the trader led the cart to his home in the "richer" part of town. She looked about. So many things had changed here. Once in front of the home, Mukhlis helped her down and then together they managed to bring Altair to the backroom where he had a spare bed that would be well away from the prying eyes of any who would come looking.

"Aalia! Nalia!" He called after Altair was lying down.

A middle-aged woman appeared along with a teenage girl. "Yes, husband?"

"Fetch water, clothes, and…" Mukhlis began.

"Do you have honey?" Sitt asked as she lifted a dagger from her belt and cut her father-in-law's pant legs from knee to thigh to look better at the wounds. The area was hard to see with the black of dried blood mingling with the crimson of fresh. The one on his right was far worse than the left, but both were oozing a great deal of blood. Her hands were crimson as she worked to save him. "Thread and a sturdy needle?"

"Yes, my lady." The woman of the house said.

Sitt tossed back her cowl revealing her raven black hair was now streaked with gray and her face was lined with wisdom and years. She still looked younger than her actual years, however, face only marred by the vertical cut that had removed the sight from her right eye. She used the hot water to dip the needle in and then she threaded it. She stitched the wound closed with due skill, but Altair had lost much of his lifeblood.

She stitched his other side as well and then bound them with honey and herbs she had in her pouches to keep them clean. The linen strips were easy to come by. She looked up. Altair's brow was warm. Not a great surprise with his blood loss, but still a fever, as weak as he was, could kill.

Sitt sat back and then cleaned the blood from her hands in a bowl as she then placed a cool towel on her grandfather's head and kept the blankets on him. She rose to her feet and turned to the family. The mistress of the home had proved invaluable.

"My thanks." She said and put her hand over her heart and bowed to them.

Mukhlis lifted a hand. "Come. You have traveled far. Share a meal with us. We do not have much, but what we have is yours, Lady Sitt."

She smiled. "You are kind. We will not trouble you long."

"There is not enough kindness in the world. My husband says you are to thank for saving his life today."

Sitt nodded slowly. "True."

The matron nodded. "Then you will stay with us as long as you need."

Mukhlis smiled. "My wife Aalia and daughter Nalia."

"I am Sitt bint Malik al-Sayf."

The trader bowed.

There was a knock at the door.

Mukhlis walked to it and Sitt pressed the two other women back as she lifted her hand. Her blade clicked from its sheath and she stood ready to defend them.

The trader nodded as he looked up at the younger man before him and another man dressed similarly. "Welcome, Umar. Your sister is inside." He cocked his head. "Who is this Hebrew?"

Umar nodded as they stepped in. "Nassar is husband to Sitt." He said.

Sitt took a breath of relief and with a flick her blade disappeared.

"Thank you." Nassar said as Mukhlis poured them mint tea.

Umar joined his sister and looked at his grandfather. "How is he?"

She sighed. "He lives for now. All I can hope for is that stubborn spirit he has will keep him alive." She wrapped her arms about herself and moved to join the family for their evening meal.

ZzZ

Three days past.

Altair had become dangerously pale, but still he lived. Umar, Mukhlis, Aalia, Sitt, and Nassar took turns watching over him for signs of him waking or becoming worse.

Mukhlis was sitting talking to him softly, knowing the older man could not hear, but he was voicing his thoughts. "If Altair was here, this never would have happened. He was a good leader, wise and strong. He left there be more trade and only taxed us enough to support the protection he gave us. He would have never let Abbas have control. There had to have been a coup or something. Altair would never have betrayed the trust we have had for a hundred years or more with the Order."

The elder man's eyes snapped opened. "Why do you speak of me?"

"You are not Abbas, old man. Rest."

"No." The elder man sat up a little and looked at the trader, his host. "I am Altair."

Mukhlis blinked. "What?"

"Yes." Sitt said coming into the room. Her cowl was back again as she stepped in. She had been listening for a while at the door, restless and unable to sleep.

"I thought you were going to rest, my lady." Muhklis chided softly.

"Rest is harder and harder to find, my friend." She said smiling a little ruefully. She then turned her blue eye to Altair who was watching her. "Uncle. How are you?" She asked coming to his side.

"I know your face." He breathed. "Which are you? My little Hatice or my little Sitt?"

"Sitt." She smiled face holding affection.

She nodded and took his hand, kissing the cool knuckles. He lifted his other hand and caressed her cheek. "Is it really you?"

"Yes, uncle Altair." She said, tears in her eyes and she bent and kissed his cheek softly. "It has been too long."

"Twenty years." He whispered as she kept her face close to his. His eyes were bright and though there was the arrogance she well knew, there was also warmth. Altair realized he still had family and he was blessed. Sitt had come. "Where is Darim? Where is A'sha?" He asked. He feared the answer that his son was dead and he would regret the harsh words for the rest of his life that had passed between them. He also feared his sister's time had run.

"He is Alexandria." She said. "My mother is in Alexandria. She sent me."

"He wanted to make sure I was not still angry." He said looking at her, searching her face. Those eyes could see the soul, but she could not look away as she sat at his side. He touched her thick braid. "You have aged, my dove." He traced the scar. "And been injured."

"As have you, uncle." She smiled and laughed a little wiping the tears from her eyes. "I do not think you can toss me in the air anymore."

He smiled. "No." He looked at her. "Have you family?" He asked.

She nodded looking back as Nassar came into the room holding a letter he had been writing. "My husband, Nassar."

"A Hebrew."

She nodded. "The Order mother founded has many faiths." She said.

"And children? Do I have great grandchildren?" He asked, excited about the possibility. She seemed to know that he meant as his own true children of grandchildren and those of his sister together.

"Hatice has four. Umar two. Kadar three." She sighed. "Sadly, all of my children never saw their second year."

"I am sorry." He said taking her hand gently. "How many?"

"Four." She swallowed the pain and then smiled, though she had tears in her eyes. "I am the auntie."

"I was the uncle for many years before I married Maria and sired Darim." He patted her hand. "It is not terrible is it?"

"No." she said.

Altair looked up and noted the younger man leaning against the doorway. His dark eyes looked at the man. "You have the look of Sef, but you cannot be. Who are you?"

"Umar." The man said stepping forward. "Your youngest grandson."

Altair nodded. "I remember. You have some skill with a blade as I remember." He said. "You have grown into a handsome young man." He nodded. "A proud name. Both of you. Named for your mother's parents." He coughed a little. "You honor them." Sitt offered him water and he settled back.

"I am told I look much as you did when you were younger." Umar said smiling.

"Yes." Altair said. "Lighter skinned, but yes, you are definitely from my kin."

Mukhlis smiled. "Why did you come back to Masyaf, Mentor."

"I do not hold that title currently." He smiled. "Good you are alive Mukhlis."

"To us still loyal, you still do. There are members of the assassins who do as well." He nodded to the other three. "Their timely arrival saved us both."

Altair nodded. "What has happened? You must tell me everything."

The trader nodded and began the tale of the past twenty years to the former mentor, the master assassin, and the mentor's grandson who all listened to the tale with interest. Sitt then for her part added her own part of the tale that Alamut had been destroyed by the Mongols nearly a year ago. Altair had left to journey to Masyaf as a pilgrim and had missed the blood bath by only a few months.

"But the family is safe?" Altair asked.

"Indeed. Miriam bore Darim two sons named Sef and Omar. Yasmin is expecting a child any day. A'sha remained to assist with the birth. We suspect she carries twins."

"My sister's golden hands." Altair said smiling a little.

Nassar lifted the paper he held. "Do you wish to add anything Mentor before I return to Alexandria with word?"

Altair took a breath. "I wish my sister much love and I hope to see her soon."

Sitt nodded. "She will come." She assured him solemnly.


	26. Justice

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 26 – Justice

It took the better part of a month for Altair to recover.

Part of him cursed himself for his age. In his younger years this would have been days not weeks, but his body took longer than his mind. Still, Sitt was there. Umar had left them to bring his mother to them. Altair wondered how many more would come with them to see the Brotherhood restored.

Sitt and he had talked at length about the Egyptian brotherhood and the Bureaus of it. He had been interested in how A'sha had kept the Creed. Though she had changed the robes and become Hidden Ones in the shadows of Old, the mission remained the same, though the assassins were almost the elite guards of the Sultanate who followed the tenants of the Creed. He also was amazed to learn that his sister had converted to Christianity as had Darim. Sitt had explained that the tenants had no conflict with most religions and that A'sha liked the idea that she would one day be forgiven for committing murder in the name of peace.

The town had settled, but still people would speak of the nine-fingered man with a hidden blade on the streets. Who was this savior of a villager? Umar had been able to gain some information, but being a stranger there was little more than rumor he could gain before he left for Alexandria.

Altair decided it was time to confront Abbas one more time. He dressed in his hermit clothing once more with clean robes beneath, though one could hardly see them. The only visible weapon was the bracers on his forearm.

Sitt remained with the family that had sheltered them. At first, she had not wished to leave Altair alone. He had told her to follow if he did not return within two hours. She agreed to this

Outside the town, a small group of assassins sat around a fire. Easily recognizable by their clothing. The nights were becoming cooler. They warmed their hands and looked at each other. Altair moved closer and the group paid them no notice.

One said, "They say he screams in his sleep, calling out for his father." His name was Cemal, son of Cemil, and he had been born and raised an assassin as had Teragani who sat across from him. Tazim sat with them, the elder of the group, nearing fifty, watchful, but still a fierce assassin.

"So, he cries out for his daddy. We all do at times, though I call for my mother. Abbas. What a miserable man." Teragani said.

Tazim watched them. "It is not our place to judge."

Cemal hissed. "It certainly is. If our master has gone mad, I would like to know."

Teragani looked up. He looked up now noticing the man coming forward. "Hush Cemal..." He said. The old man looked haggard and his face gaunt, but his eyes were quick and watchful. The assassins did not move aggressively toward him and sat passively waiting to see what the old man would do. "Good evening." He said.

The old man's voice was as dry as a dead leaf. "Water." He said.

Teragani nodded. "Of course. Sit." He said offering Altair his place.

Altair sat down. Altair nodded to them as he dipped his head to them. "Many thanks." He drank from a gourd that Teragani gave him. They all watched him as he drank his fill.

Tazim cocked his head. "What brings you here, old man?" He asked after their guest had had his fill and then set it down. How the old man watched them, the alertness, Cemal knew was not like a normal hermit.

Altair thought a moment before he spoke. "Pity Abbas, do not mock him. He has lived as an orphan for most of his life, shamed by his family's legacy. He is desperate for power because he is powerless."

The small group was startled at Altair's words. Teragani looked shocked, but Tazim smiled quietly. He stole a glance at the old man's left hand resting on his knee and saw that his left-hand ring finger was missing. So, unless that was an extraordinary coincidence or the man was an assassin. Teragani looked up covertly at the gaunt face. There was something familiar about it…

Teragani jumped to his feet. "He is our Mentor! And unlike Al Mualim or Altair Ibn-La'Ahad , he never betrayed us!"

Tazim looked up. "Nonsense, Teragani! Altaïr was no traitor." He looked at Altair keenly. "He was driven out. Unjustly."

Teragani hissed and lifted a hand. He stormed off into the darkness. Altair looked up watching him go, but said nothing. He noted the man did not go far, just to the out reaches of the firelight.

Altair then looked back at Cemal and Tazim from beneath his cowl. Tazim looked up at the man again. Most of the older man's face was shaded, but the eyes glittered in the dark and could not be hidden. Cemal looked down and Tazim followed his friend's eyes to the right cuff that did not cover the man's harness for the second hidden blade he carried.

The assassin spoke tentatively. "Is it….is it you?" He asked softly. He paused and looked at Cemal. "I heard the rumors, but I did not believe them."

The old man gave the ghost of a smile. "I wonder if I might speak to Abbas myself. It has been a long time."

Tazim and Cemal looked at each other and then back. "Impossible. Abbas uses rogue Fedayeen to keep us from the castle." Cemal said.

"Fewer than half the fighters here are true Assassins." Tazim said looking about. "Altair." He said naming the former mentor and uncle.

Altair smiled and nodded slight. "But I can see that the true assassins have remained just that – true."

Tazim looked at him. "It has been a long time, Mentor. Where did you go?"

"I traveled. Studied. Studied deeply. Rested. Recovered from my losses, learned to live with them. In short, I did what anyone in my position would have done." He swallowed. "Though at a cost. I only recently reunited with family." He paused. "I lived among our brothers in Alamut."

"Alamut? How do they fare?" Cemal asked.

Altair shook his head. "According to my niece, not well. The Mongols came and destroyed their library. They are like locusts. We dealt with them once, but our only hope is to reaffirm our presence here in the Levant to let them know this land has been reclaimed. We must be strong. But perhaps we no longer should dwell within fortresses, but among the people." He looked up at the fortress with the sentry fires on it.

"Niece? My sister is here?" Tazim asked softly.

Altair looked at him. "You are Tazim." He said.

"Yes. Though many call me Malik."

Altair lifted his hand. "A good name. Your father was a good man. One of the best I have ever known."

"Is it really you?" Cemal asked.

"Hush, you do not want to get him killed." Tazim hissed at him looking about.

Cemal suddenly tensed. "Teragani?"

Tazim grinned then. "His bark is worse than his bite. Besides he left before we found out." He looked about, but then noticed the other man walking back toward them, a hidden blade from a woman who materialized from the shadows held to him.

"I told you to give me two hours." Altair growled.

Sitt looked at him. "It has been, uncle."

"She is the one Abbas refers to as the Bitch." Cemal said.

Altair looked at him sharply. "Careful, my brother, she is my niece."

Sitt retracted her blade as Teragani sat down with them. "It isn't me whom is referred as that." She said. "That is my mother."

"Lady A'sha lives?" Tazim gasped.

"Indeed." Sitt moved forward. "Hello brother."

Tazim gasped and looked at his sister who was many years his junior and pulled her into an embrace. He held her as though he did not believe it. "I had not had word. In years."

"Abbas controls the messages." She said softly. "We no longer could risk your death."

Cemal sighed. "I knew she refused to endanger us after the death of my father."

Altair nodded. "She has always thought as a Mentor should. The greater good of the Order and those of it before her personal times."

The pair nodded. "We have much work to do, Mentor." Teragani said.

Altair spread his hands. "So where do I begin?"

Cemal rose as did Tazim. "With us." He said.

ZzZ

Sitt nodded to Altair as she stood near the fire, arms folded. "Tazim I am sure could find those loyal to us, father. We are in need of friends."

Cemal nodded. "There are many."

"Good." Altair said rising to his feet. He rose to his feet like and old man, but once erect he looked at the three before him as his feet stayed on firm ground.

ZzZ

Teragani and Tazim went to find which brothers were still loyal to their cause. By dawn they returned to the former mentor, Cemal, and Sitt all standing together. The morning air was still and there was fog at their feet.

Sitt stood in her robes, long and tailing like the robes Altair used to wear that moved in the soft breeze about her leggings, but they were not white, but dark, like the night about them. It would soon be dawn. She had her hair now pulled back in a tight braid for action and she had found a bow and quiver of arrows. Skilled as her mother had been, she was a master assassin. There were few enough of them left.

Altair still wore the clothing of a hermit, but in order to blend being an old man he would need such garments. Amal would be able to move with him along with the three loyal to them to bring the Order back into check.

Altair nodded as Teragani came up to him with several others. "You say these men are cruel. Has anyone raised his blade against an innocent?" He asked.

Cemal nodded coming to his other elbow. "Alas, yes. Brutality seems to be their sole joy."

Altair was firm. "Then they will die, for they have compromised the Order. But those who still live by the Creed must be spared."

Teragani bowed. "You can trust in us."

Cemal and Teragani remained behind him as the others fanned out to find more friends or enemies.

"First, you must deal with the captains." Cemal said as he moved to leave.

Altair nodded. He looked at Sitt. Her hood was pulled down over her face. Other than her still lithe form, she looked like a younger man. One had to look closely to see her breasts under her robes. She also wore a cloak and looked at Altair.

"These first two are mine, Sitt. Stay close should I need it."

"Of course, uncle." She said.

Altair moved up the path toward the castle. There were two captains standing near the entrance of the lower part of the fortress. Cemal and Teragani were near, he could sense them, but not see them. The light was still poor, but the captains were speaking together and warming their hands over a brazier.

"You've heard the stories going around the village?" The first said.

"About Abbas and his nightmares?" The second quarried.

"No, no. Altaïr."

"What about him?"

"People say an old Assassin saved the life of a merchant down in the valley. They say he fought with a hidden blade."

"Ah, rumors. I don't believe it."

"True or not, say nothing to Abbas. He is sick with paranoia."

Altair listened in the shadows. These men had clearly become part of Abbas' flock. Their words were proof that the doctrine Abbas now preached had more to do with the Templars than the Assassins.

Altair coughed, very gently, and moved into the pool of light.

"Who the hell are you?" The first asked.

"You make me ill just looking at you." The second one said in disgust. "Clear out, old man."

Altair did not speak, but lifted his left hand revealing his missing finger as a clear sign as to whom they were dealing with. Together the men looked at each other and then drew their blades. A master assassin of old. This was not a mere hermit, but someone nearly of fable and legend now.

"You talk far too much." Altair hissed and with the economical movements of an old man, but without the slowness, he stepped forward, catching the pair off guard, and with his twin hidden blades, lunged at their necks, killing each with quick and deadly accuracy.

He continued to the fortress entrance and found a third captain between himself and the courtyard. He managed to duck out of sight just in time before the man spotted him, but then there was a cry behind him. A novice came running toward him and Altair shook his head a little from where he stood knowing Sitt was thinking to take out the young boy before he could raise an alarm. The boy was innocent and just following orders. He ran straight to the captain and whispered to him.

The captain gasped and then cried out calling for help. "Altaïr is here? In the village? Send word to the castle, quickly! Assassins! To me!"

Foot falls and a general alarm was going on in the fortress.

Cemal appeared at Altair's elbow. "We are ready Mentor. We could not move the bodies before they were discovered." He nodded behind him. "We had several more of our loyal brothers with us."

"No matter." Altair said. He then smiled back at those behind him with their hoods up. "Welcome."

He continued walking and several assassins leapt onto their brothers, killing them.

One loyal assassin bowed. "Mentor!" He put his hand over his heart and then moved to join the others.

Abbas' Captain continued to cry. "There! Kill the traitors! You are nothing without that artifact. Nothing!"

Sitt was above watching and realized this man had been there when they had fled. He would die.

"You pathetic miser, stand down or die." The captain said with several men behind him looking at Altair before him.

Altair looked at him calmly. "You could have been spared, friend."

Abbas' Captain growled. "I am not your friend, old man." He rushed Altair with his sword, thinking the old man was not ready. Altair was ready, however, and dodged the blow before turning and lifting his own sword.

Cemal and Teragani rushed to meet the others and Sitt leapt down from a low roof and stabbed one poor man in the back before he was even aware she was there. She turned as a man came to her and tried to strike. She parried the blow grabbing the man's hand, twisting it behind him, and kicking him away from her in a move Altair had taught her long ago. As he came again she buried her sword in his midriff.

She turned and noted the captain fell too. The battle was short, bloody, and none of the group remained. Altair smiled and then nodded to those loyal about them.

Altair took a breath. "Follow me to the castle. And spill no blood if you can help it." Altair climbed the path to the castle with those loyal with him. He paused a moment. He looked at the side of the castle doors. He saw a younger version of himself. His wife.

"Maria. My love…" He whispered and Sitt was there looking at him, waiting.

"What is it uncle?" She whispered.

He looked at her a moment. "Memories." He whispered back. He shook his head as though there were cobwebs in it.

There was a fourth captain there just before the courtyard, but he stepped forward looking at Altair. He then sheathed his weapon and spread his hands. "Altair, two decades have passed since we last saw you within these walls. We could use your wisdom, now more than ever."

Sitt nodded to him as the loyal assassins gathered around Altair.

Altair nodded. "Safety and peace on you brother."

"And to you." The captain put his hand over his heart and bowed.

Abbas was waiting from the balcony where the library stood. He had two loyal guards with him. "Kill him! Kill him now! What are you waiting for! You fools! He has bewitched you!"

Sitt lifted her bow and aimed, but Altair knocked her arm fouling her aim and hitting the guard beside Abbas in his chest. She gasped and looked up angrily at Altair as he held her bow. "He is mine!" He told her in a cold hiss.

She took a breath and nodded. She then noticed black shadows on the walls, like spiders. She dipped her head and moved up the hill slowly as three dropped down surprising several of the white clad loyal brethren.

Sitt lifted her hands. "We are one." She barked in Egyptian. She looked about as all about them Hidden Ones dropped down from the walls.

Altair noticed and moved up the hill. Several moved against them. He was able to disarm them, but was hit by two. Ignoring the minor wounds, he continued. Three set upon him at once. He dealt with two and gasped, slightly winded as the third moved around him.

However, a dark clad assassin dropped from above, killing him with an aerial assassination. The dark clad warrior straightened and put a hand to her chest. She had the gray laughing eyes of Maria, but his Syrian coloring. He dipped his head. This had to be one of Sef's daughters, by her age, she had to be his youngest, the one Miriam had been carrying when she fled Masyaf before he was killed.

Dark and white clothed loyal assassins walked behind, daring those on the fence about joining them to come and fight them. The Hidden Ones were better armed and were a mix of men and women, watchful.

Altair saw Sitt and nodded to her and Cemal who was with her. "See to securing the rest of Masyaf." He said. He lifted a hand to her face. "Be safe." He told her and pressed a kiss to her brow.

"You as well." She looked at him. "End this, uncle. Reunite the Assassins. Make us whole!"

"You have my word." He nodded. "Take Cemal. Go!"

She nodded and gathered Teragani and Cemal to her. Tazim stepped forward and refused to leave Altair and the elderly assassin looked at him and nodded as he worked his way up to the library.

"Our mentor has returned!" Someone cheered.

Another came forward, but Altair disarmed him. Another and Tazim leapt and killed him with his hidden blade.

At the doorway, two guards saluted him.

"Mentor." One said.

"Altair." The other said.

Tazim and Altair reached the library and Altair and Tazim noted that Abbas stood on the stairs with two bodyguards with pikes.

Altair looked up. "Tell your men to stand down." He barked.

Abbas shook his head. "No! I am defending Masyaf! Would you not do the same?"

Altair's face twisted. "You corrupted everything we stand for, and lost everything we gained. All of it, sacrificed on the altar of your own spite." He said sadly shaking his head.

Abbas' eyes narrowed. "And you, you have wasted your life staring into that Apple, dreaming of your own glory!"

"That is true, Abbas. I learned many things from the Apple. Of life and death, of the past and the future. Let me show you..." Altair said lifting his left arm. He aimed his spring loaded projectile weapon and fired.

The explosion was deafening in the confined space. Tazim gasped looking about.

Abbas looked at Altair startled. "Is that all you have, Altair? Tricks and noise and…" He paused and looked down at his robes. A crimson stain was forming on his chest and becoming wider. He dropped to his knees and rolled down the stairs to Altair's feet.

Abbas coughed and looked up as Altair looked down at him almost in pity. "I can never forgive you Altaïr. The lies you told about my family, my father. The humiliation I suffered."

Altair sighed. "They were not lies, Abbas. I was ten years old when your father came to see my sister and I. He was in tears, begging to be forgiven for betraying my family." He knelt down beside his one-time friend turned nemesis. "Then he cut his own throat. I watched his life ebb away at my feet. I will never forget that image. Neither will my sister as young as she was."

Abbas groaned. "No."

Altair continued. "But he was not a coward, Abbas. He reclaimed his honor."

Abbas coughed and this time blood came from his lips. "I hope there is another life after this one. Then I will see him, and know the truth of his final days... And when it is your time, we will find you, and then there will be no doubts."

Altair watched him die and then stood over him as his blood stained the flagstones.

Above them the two guards were dropped as they stood in confusion whether to strike or no. One fell the blade of Kadar in an aerial assassination. The other, fell to a silver haired woman, whose face had aged, but her blue eyes were timeless as she let the man drop to her feet.

She stepped over him, allowing Altair to speak to the dying man before she nodded to her son and they walked down the stairs together. Tazim came to her and she embraced him for the first time in many years.

It was sometime before Altair moved and he felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked about. The sun had risen high in the sky, but the assassins had left him peace waiting in the courtyard, likely at Sitt's instruction.

His eyes lifted to the stranger touching him and he turned to see a face he well knew, but a half decade younger. The bright laughing eyes were full of wonder and concern. The once dark hair was now silver and elegant in a tight hairdo for action.

His eyes misted seeing the face once more. He gasped pulling her into an embrace. She took a breath steadying herself as well and gave up, weeping into his robes, happy to once again hold her brother and know he was safe.

Altair nodded as he put her from him to look down at her face. "Welcome home, A'sha."

She had aged, but her blue eyes, like the waters around Acre, remained the same blue as they had been at her birth. Now they had years of experience in them of the trials seen.

She nodded. "Welcome home, brother." She whispered.

Together they walked out to the courtyard. Before them stood the dark clad Hidden Ones and the Brotherhood, watching the pair, standing together, side by side, as not only brothers and sisters, but also assassins.

A'sha stepped forward and leapt onto the terrace wall with surprising agility. She looked back at her brother and then bowed, hand to her chest. "Our Mentor has returned! Safety and Peace Altair!"

Those in the courtyard cheered.


	27. The Polos

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 27 – The Polos

Abbas was buried within the crypt of the assassin ancestors.

Some of the assassins had seen this as an insult to have the blood of the madman with the honored elders.

Abbas was buried with his own father whom, though had committed suicide, had been deemed worthy due to reclaiming his honor to Altair when he had come and killed himself because of his failure under torture.

The assassins were now less in number, but once Abbas was out of the way, many had sided with Altair and proclaimed him their mentor. Those who did not and had defiantly resisted were tried for crimes against the people, and put to death by Altair himself with a sword pressed deep in their chests from their necks. The Roman way of killing a traitor was effective, though bloody.

Altair had sent those most loyal to begin working in the Levant cities of Acre, Damascus, and Jerusalem as he started to move away from Masyaf. The fortress was a symbol now of power, a power that the Mongols craved and would come after.

Tazim, also called Malik after his father remained with Altair as his bodyguard, but Cemal and Teragani had gone to Acre and Damascus respectively to begin gaining support for the assassin guild among the people once more.

Darim and Sitt, both Dais, Master Assassins of the order were put in charge of training those whom had become lazy and untrained under Abbas' rule. Darim had brought his younger son, Sef with him. Altair had greeted his younger grandson with a warm embrace and remarked that Sef looked much like his father, though not as powerfully built. He looked less than his namesake than Umar did, but still, the eyes and smile were his uncle he never knew.

Malik himself had asked Sitt to train him since his mother no longer could move as she once had and so he stood with her in the training circle. She was nearly a foot shorter and nearly a decade younger, but she still was remarkably limber and lithe when she moved. Her grace was that of a middle-aged woman, but she still was an assassin. Even her own brother had remarked these of the order no could hardly keep up with her movements.

She watched Malik like a canyon cat, pacing before him, blue eyes watchful, daring him to make the first move with a wooden sword at her side. Dressed in her master robes with the hood low over her face she looked much like a shorter version of Altair only in robes of the midnight sky. Her dark silver peppered hair fell over her shoulder in a ponytail.

Malik moved to strike and Sitt moved out of his way grabbing his sword hand, twisting his hand so he dropped the sword, twisting his arm up behind his back, and then kicking him away from her. He turned stunned by the move. No one had ever taught him such a move. She smiled and then with her boot kicked the sword back to him.

"How did you do that Dai?" He asked.

"It is a move that our Mentor uses." She smiled. "Shall I teach you?"

"Yes, please!" He said.

They practiced for hours and by the time the sun was ready to set, the bodyguard had mastered the move and they then used their hands when then weapons failed. He countered everything she did and she countered his movements. They had drawn a crowd by this point.

Sitt then ran at a post and ran up it and stood balanced on the top above Malik's head. He looked up. Another maneuver he had never encountered, but one that Altair had installed in A'sha, Darim, and Sef (the elder). Free-running was basic to assassins, but Altair made the movements flawless and graceful and the master assassin stood, balanced on one foot, the other tucked beside her as she looked down. Malik laughed and shook his head.

She then took a breath and front flipped, landing behind him. He was startled and she kicked him to the ground. He rolled to face her, but her hidden blade was pressed to his neck as she knelt over him. He heard the deadly weapon come from its case. He could feel her panting. The fight had cost her, she was no longer as young as she used to be. Nearing fifty her age was starting to catch up with her.

Her was panting also, amazed at how their mother had trained her.

She smiled and rose to her feet. She offered a hand. "You did well, Malik."

He took her hand as those around the ring clapped. The Dai had proven her superiority without being arrogant, just tactful. She took a breath and sighed bending to catch her breath.

"Are you well, Dai?" A voice asked.

"Yes." She said. "Just…feeling my age."

"You are making me feel old." The voice said.

She looked up to see Altair, dressed in his mentor robes of white with red. He wore his hood and watched her with his dark eyes. His face showed his age, but those eyes would always be clever until the day he died.

"Uncle." She said softly. Then she nodded and said louder. "Mentor."

"I am in need of your charm, my dove." He said softly.

"My charm. Not my mother?" She laughed a little. "Are you sure you are speaking to me and not Malik here? He has far more charm than I have."

"Perhaps, but I do not think he would wear a matron's dress."

She looked at her uncle carefully. "It has been some time since I have worn a dress in anything other than a formal occasion for court."

He stepped to her and nodded. "Pretend that is the case. I need a woman at my side to…charm the heathen bandits shall we say."

She nodded. "As you command, Mentor."

Malik looked after her. "She is an amazing fighter, Mentor. She told me she learned everything from our mother and thus from you."

"Not everything. I never had the grace a female possesses and I will never be able to fire a bow with her accuracy."

Malik nodded as Altair walked among these training including his own grandson Sef. Sef came to him as he took a break to drink. He bowed. "Mentor."

"Ah, Sef, how are you?" Altair asked.

"Well." He looked about. The young boy blinked. "Have you seen my mother?"

"She is doing an errand for me." Altair said. True, he had sent Miriam to the village to fetch tea. "She will return shortly." He looked up. "For now…let me see what skills you have learned."

ZzZ

Sitt entered the room in the master's tower she had known long ago. Now her room once more she worked on removing the layers of the robes she had on. She carefully set each down as she reached for the matron dress that had been laid out for her by someone under the direction of Altair. She touched the material a moment thinking of Maria, her favored aunt, the last matron to wear such robes of this order.

She gasped feeling warm large hands cupping her naked breasts from behind. Though softer now, they remained firm and part of her that her husband loved to touch when they were intimate. The calloused hands she knew well and she took a breath leaning back to take in the scent that was home and family. She smiled a little before flipping her thick braid to the side before looking up at the much taller, more muscular, and black and silver haired man behind her.

"You can be most distracting, Nassar." She said softly.

He chuckled. "You were lost in your own thoughts as it was." He said.

She turned to him and his hands slid to the small of her back as she lifted her arms to his shoulders. He bent his head. They kissed and what was to be a short and gentle kiss because a deep passionate one as her husband's hands went to her bottom and cupped her, lifting her against him, while he made something like a growl in his throat. They still were intimate often, even still, though not as much as they had been when they had first wed or were trying for children.

She pulled back looking up at his bright blue eye. The sightless one, milky, but he could still could the iris move about as though it was trying to focus also. "Uncle has need of me."

"Always." He said and let his hands move to her hair as she turned back to pull on the dress. She kept her leggings on under it and sighed as she looked at the buttons. She reached to start, but Nassar batted her hands away and buttoned the mother of pearl buttons for her.

He stole a kiss from her bare neck as she pulled her hair to the side to let him finish. She smiled as he then lifted it in his hands. "Let us see to this, shall we?" He said and he brushed out the braid and then made two braids. These he let hand down her back loose until the end where he bound them together with a gold cap.

She sighed and looked in the mirror. "I look nothing like myself."

"Ah, but you are beautiful and looking like the matron. That is what father needs." He kissed her cheek. "Go to him."

She reached behind her and found his hardened length. She caressed it through his leggings playfully. "And what of you."

He narrowed his eyes and pulled her hand up and to his lips. "That will be waiting for you when you are done and you best pray I find you here, lest I take you against the battlement wall."

"That might be a nice change of pace, though the guards might be affronted."

"Affronted hell, they will watch and imagine their own cocks in you."

"They are half my age most of them."

"Ah and also half as experienced." She slapped his arm playfully as he grinned at her.

"You are terrible. Leave me be. I need my composure not thinking about your ravishing me."

He chuckled and stepped back with a bow. "Of course, wife." Though his smile said differently.

ZzZ

Sitt joined Altair in the library.

He took her hand, kissing the knuckles gently and looking her over. Other than the weapons she carried, she looked the part, and this day and age, if the bandit king thought they would be unarmed, he was mistaken.

"I still do not understand why you need me, uncle and not my mother."

"Your mother is ill." Altair said simply.

There was a commotion at the gate and the Bandit King, Fahad, entered the hall with several men.

Sitt tensed and Altair sensed her displeasure. The guards below them stood at attention and remained watchful. The Bandit King walked to the base of the stairs and looked up.

"Fahad. I have no wish to fight you."

"Because I outnumber you." The bandit said smiling. It was in part true. The Order he did, but with A'sha's Hidden Ones among them, they were nearly equal.

"No. I have enough men here and can summon more from the Levant should I have need, but why? There is no need for loss of life on either side."

Mukhlis stood nearby. He had become Altair's secretary and orderly. He smiled a little at Sitt as she nodded to him as she turned her blue eye toward the men.

Fahad looked up at the woman. "Blue eyes are rare here, old man." He said regarding Sitt. "I have heard of such eyes. A man of mine claimed that a woman had defeated him. I killed him because I did not believe him, but here stands an assassin woman in assassin's garb just as he claimed."

Altair looked back at his niece standing guardedly as she flanked him. "My niece could well kill you where you stand, but on my order as with the guards, she does not." He looked at the younger more savage man. "Quit this place. You have no need of it. Return home and try to ready yourselves for the Mongol horde."

"Stories for children." The man dismissed.

Sitt stepped forward. "I have seen what these stories do to people. I would sooner cut my own throat and then let them do as they had done in Alamut." She said.

Fahad took a breath and watched as the girl flicked her two ring fingers and her hidden blades sprang forth with a scratch of metal on metal. It seemed to be deafening in the soundless hall. She stood, arms at her sides, blades extended, ready to fight, her eyes watchful.

A frightening sight. She looked like a cat, ready to attack a mouse that had dared come into her domain. Her milky eye was terrifying to them as she stood ready to strike. Now he saw it. Now a cat at all, but a viper, whose bite was just as deadly.

"Perhaps we should leave." The bandit leader said. "The new leader of the assassins is stronger and will allow us to return to our lands."

"Yes, unmolested should you leave the Levant citizens without cause to complain."

Fahad nodded. "Very well. Masyaf had become desolate for us anyway. Ma'assalama Altair." He said bowing.

Altair dipped his head slightly and nodded. "Fi aman Allah." He said.

The bandits left and Sitt let out the breath she had been holding. With a flick her blades retracted and she looked at her uncle. "One problem down, now to face the issue of winter. There are hardly any stores here."

"I intend to fill the stores and have a library built for my books beneath this very building." Altair said looking at her.

"Good. The roads will close soon. We must move fast before the weather changes."

"Aye." He said regarding her. He pressed a kiss to her brow as she looked up at him.

ZzZ

Altair had returned to his rightful title of Mentor.

Darim had brought two Venetians with him after her had returned to Europe and come back to Masyaf. The Polos were very interested in the assassin order and the Creed.

Altair himself had taken to writing a codex, a large journal recounting his life and what he had learned from the Apple. A'sha was also writing her a codex, but she was becoming less and less active as the years went by.

Her joints hurt her often and she had nearly constant pain in her feet. Her lips were often swollen and dry. The physicians noted that her urine was _madhumeha_ or honey like, attracting ants to her chamber pot. Sitt brought an Egyptian doctor to them to try to find why A'sha would at times be very animated or very much in her own mind, quiet and hardly paying attention. He made her a tea with lupine, trigonella, and zedoary seed to aide with the excess sugar secretion. However, after part of her foot had to be amputated due to gangrene, A'sha seemed to recognize that this was the beginning of the end.

Altair knew it as well as he spoke to her. A physician much of her life, she resigned herself to teaching acolytes the skills she had learned over many, many years. Altair desperately tried to find a way to save her using the Apple and finding nothing that would truly stave off the fatal disease that afflicted his younger sister.

He knew from his reading that sugar sickness had been recognized from even the Roman times, but was a rare affliction. He found sources, but they only commented that it was all, but a death sentence and the life with it was short, painful, and sad for those around the victim to watch.

She was much calmer about it than he was as she moved slowly about the hallways, keeping as active as she could, though she required a cane to walk now. She had lived her life well and was content. As death seemed to be held at bay by the tea she still was able to speak, but Altair worried for her. She ate more than many others, but seemed to gain no weight and in fact, little by little seemed to becoming more and more wraith like in appearance.

Her vision was at times blurry so she needed help walking. Hatice's elder daughter Flora had come to help her grandmother and learn from her. Flora learned many medicines, poisons, and teas. How to deliver a child and how to bind wounds. All skills needed for the order.

She took pride in making the tea for her grandmother knowing it was what was keeping her from death's door. A simple tea, but one that made it so A'sha, whose lovely hair had begun to fall out as well as her skin sinking in. A cruel way for such a woman to go, but inevitable sadly.

The assassins of Egypt kept their darker robes, but they also trained in Masyaf, learning from the masters who remained how to fight and spread word of the Creed. Altair learned from his sister how the Creed did not conflict truly with any religion and so he allowed all faiths and men and women to join if they proved they had the heart for the journey.

The Polos were learning from Darim and Altair himself.

A'sha revealed in a rather interesting move, she had attacked the fortress with Al-Kamil's men, using them as a distraction to steal the ossuaries of the important members of their family. The family had an extensive crypt in Alexandria where A'sha had laid them to rest away from the madness of Abbas. She had asked her brother if he wished them to be returned to the Masyaf crypts and he revealed that they should stay there. Something was looming on the horizon according to the Apple. Something that would forever fracture the Assassins. An outside power, not an internal one.

She had been curious about this and listened as he directed the building of a massive library under the fortress of Masyaf. It would contain his many books and those of the assassin order, holding their history. Others were copied and sent to Alexandria to be held in their great library that had lost some knowledge, but some knowledge was kept in vaults beneath in sealed jars to be safe until those that needed them could again read the texts.

The Polos learned how to fight from Darim who was their senior by nearly thirty years and others like Tazim, Sitt, and Selima. Sitt had left Alexandria's Bureau in the care of Hatice's son, Desmond. Domenico had taken Hatice to Italy to investigate the lost Roman Bureaus and to visit Francis's grave with a candle and rosary from A'sha in Assisi.

The Assassins were few, but they were still a force that kept leaders on their toes.


	28. The Legacy of La'Ahad (No One)

The Assassin's Sister

Chapter 28 - The Legacy of La'Ahad (No One)

In the Year of Our Lord 1257

June

La'Ahad.

A'sha looked up from her writings to reflect. The daughter of No One. It was true enough. An assassin became a shadow, no one, using the crowds to hide them.

She flexed her fingers. They were wrapped to prevent the sores that had developed on her thin hands. It hurt to write, but she needed to finish her codex before her time was run. She shivered a little with cold, pulling the blanket about her closer.

Flora looked up, seeing A'sha shift. "Grandmother? Can I get you some tea?"

"That would be lovely child." She smiled faintly.

Flora nodded and went to fetch the tea.

After some moments there was a crash.

A'sha gasped and looked out the window looking toward the town. She blinked seeing invaders. She jumped to the side as a great bit of stone crashed through the glass. She cried out, covering herself as glass sprayed in the room.

The door flew open to reveal Darim, Umar, Sitt, and Altair.

"What is happening?" A'sha gasped.

"The Mongols have arrived." Altair said coolly.

"I thought you killed him." A'sha hissed as Umar pulled her to her feet and helped her walk.

"No Darim killed the Great Khan. This is Hülegü Khan." Niccolo Polo said joining them as they ushered A'sha to the hallway

"My codex!" She gasped looking back.

"I will get it." Darim said moving back as another stone was thrown at the fortress from below causing a crash.

Altair led them out to the battlements. He had designed several weapons that could help with a siege. A'sha looked out over the scene before her. Darim and Sitt moved, gathering their weapons to see to the front lines.

The Mongols had arrived at least in Masyaf. What little of the assassins remained used Altair's trebuchets to hurl stones in the horde and keep them at bay away from the village, but it became clear they would not hold them back forever.

Altair had come to the courtyard's east facing palisade to look out. Two trebuchets were firing as soon as the assassins could load them. Altair took a deep breath. He was feeling his age, but the warm sun felt good on his bones.

He looked at his sister standing there, dark robes swirling about her frail body, but she was yet strong in mind though her body rotted about her.

He looked out and saw the assassins below defending the village, but some of the Mongols were making it past the line. Sitt was shooting a bow she had stolen from the corpse of one of the bodies. The short compost bow was easier to fire at her enemies. On her first pass she had tilted to the side blocking the Mongol view of her as she rode holding the horse's side as she got close enough to mark their number. That was a feat and she returned sitting up in her saddle to her startled cousin. They both well knew horses were valuable to the horde and so they would not kill one on a whim.

The first push of the vanguard had the pair of them streaked with the blood of enemies. Sitt leapt off her horse onto two officers and then turned drawing her sword and short sword. The sight of a woman in battle was enough to give them pause as she stood daring them to come at her. Two charged forward and she killed them efficiently, taking a deep breath, she looked at the enemy. She grinned at them, her remaining blue eye wild.

"Come then you heathen dogs!" She called pacing before the line like a caged tiger.

Her clouded eye no doubt made them think of her as some sort of devil woman. Darim came to her and pulled her up behind him. Together the rode passed the Assassin lines. Darim allowed her down and she looked back.

Darim's horse shifted nervously. Sitt smiled at her cousin as they looked about. "They have broken through." She said.

"Aye." He said. "Cemal!" He barked.

The assassin captain lifted his head from where he had just killed a Mongol. "Dai?"

"Hold the line!"

Cemal saluted. Sitt took a breath, feeling her age a moment as she stood, weapons ready as the vanguard prepared to run to them. She drew her bow.

"Archers!" She barked.

Darim broke off riding into the town and up toward the fortress.

Above them the Mentor touched Niccoló's sleeve in a familiar friendly way as he stood in his white mentor clothing and cloak. His movements were performed in the careful and precise manner of the very old, but there was nothing of the feebleness one would expect from a man of ninety-two years. Altair's skin was like paper, his eyes dark and watchful, but he stood erect as he smiled as his friend.

"Niccoló Polo, we have long held the Polo family – you and your brother here – close to our hearts, though our time together was, I know, brief enough, we have watched you mature from novices to assassins in such a short time, it is remarkable. But I have faith that this Codex, which I now place in your hands, will answer the many questions you have yet to ask." He nodded.

Altair pressed a thick leather-bound tome with thick vellum sheets within into the younger man's hands.

"Altair." The Venetian was startled. "This gift is…invaluable. Grazie."

Altair nodded in acknowledgement as he looked out a moment lifting a bag with his free hand. "So." He said turning again to look at the more vocal of the Polo brothers who was looking at the tome's cover, the assassin's mark was burned into the calfskin. "Where will you go next?"

"Maffeo and I will return to Constantinople for a time. We intend to establish a guild there before returning to Venice. We are long overdue and my wife and son will be missing me." He smiled a little. "Shall I send your regards to Captain Domenico and Lady Hatice as well."

"It would be appreciated." Altair said. He then cocked his head as he smiled. "Your son Marco will be eager to hear about his father's wild tales, no doubt."

"At three, he is a little young for such tales, but one day soon, indeed, he will hear them and understand my admiration for Altair the Great."

Darim interrupted their conversation as they dismounted from their horses as they came into the inner bailey. "Father!" Darim called as he rushed to where the elder man was standing. Umar appeared at his elbow. "A vanguard of Hülegü's Mongols have broken through! The village is threatened!"

Behind the Polos several assassins drew their weapons ready to defend their mentor if there was a need. Altair took notice, but needed to think up a plan.

So soon, thought Altair as he stiffened. His tone when he spoke again to Niccoló was urgent. "Niccoló – your cargo and provisions are waiting for you by the village gate. We will escort you there. Then you must make all speed to Acre to set sail."

"Thank you, Mentor."

Darim looked Umar. "Stay here and protect them."

His cousin nodded. He had a small cut and he wiped the small trail of blood in irritation as Darim mounted his horse with a vault, he often still used and had learned from the people of Mongolia.

"Prepare the catapults!" Altair ordered, "And watch for my signal." He turned to the Polos. "Stay close." He commanded them.

"We must make our way to the village immediately, Father." Darim said. "I think you and Umar had better remain with Niccoló and Maffeo. I will clear a path ahead."

"Take care, my son." Altair said looking up from beneath his cowl at him. "And keep an eye on the trebuchets."

Darim smiled. "If they hit me, they will hit a dozen or Mongols at the same time."

"Darim!" Altair snapped. "Khan Hülegü is not an enemy to be trifled with, Darim." Altair said softly, but his voice still cracked like a whip.

"We are ready for him." Darim said. He rode through the gate as it lifted for him.

Umar walked beside his uncle, his hidden blades unsheathed, ready to do battle.

Altair turned to his guests. "Come." He said. He paused looking for his sister. He then gasped seeing a white feather on the flagstones where she had been standing.

He closed his eyes knowing what she was going to do. He did not have the time to worry about her for now. She was frail and had been weak, but this threat that could destroy them all perhaps had made it so she remembered how to be an assassin.

He just prayed it would not cost her too dearly.

The group made their way slowly into the village. The route took them well clear of the main battle, but led them to the foothills that would eventually become mountains in short order.

"Will you be able to hold them?" Niccoló asked unable to keep his nervousness from his voice.

"For as long as necessary." Altair reassured him calmly. "I envy you your journey." He smiled a little. "Byzantium is a splendid city."

Niccoló smiled – though tightly, for he was more than a little aware of the danger they were in, however little mind Altair seemed to be making it at the moment. Umar was ready and his watchful gaze made him feel safer to some degree. So, he played the game Altair had started. "You prefer the ancient name, I see. Have you been there?"

"Long ago. When you Venetians diverted the Frankish Crusaders to attack it instead of Jerusalem."

"Constantinople was Venice's greatest trade rival then. It was a great coup."

"It opened Europe to the east in more ways than one." Altair said.

"The Mongols will never get that far." Niccoló said, but his voice was nervous still.

Altair didn't pick him up on that. Instead the old man spoke of before. "That little conflict in 1204 prevented me from bringing the Creed to Europe."

"Well with luck – patience – we will finish what you started Mentor." Niccoló said.

"God willing." Umar said behind him.

"If you have the chance, the view from the top of the Haghia Sofia is the best in the city." Altair said unruffled by his nephew's words.

"How does one get to the top?" Maffeo asked blinking.

Altair smiled. "With training and patience and no fear." He paused. "I take that, when you get away from here, you won't try an overland route there. That you'll be sailing to Byzantium."

"Yes – as the saying goes. We'll ride to Latakia or Acre and get a ship there. The roads in Anatolia are fogged by memories of the Crusades.""Ah." Altair said. "The deepest passions can be the deadliest."

"Do visit us if you are able, Altair. We will have plenty of space for you and your entourage."

Umar chuckled a soft sad laugh. Niccoló looked at him and Altair placed a hand on his shoulder. "No, but thank you. That is no country for old men, Niccoló. I will stay here as I must always now."

"Well." Niccoló said trying a different tactic. "Should you change your mind, our door is always open." He looked at Umar. "That goes for you and Darim as well. Any of the assassins. Lady A'sha. The air would do her well."

Umar smiled and put his hand to his breast over her heart as he bowed. "You are kind, brother."

Altair stood on a low cliff watching the battle below. Umar stood beside him and his hand rest on his nephew, using him to help him balance and keep his footing. The younger man had become accustomed to helping him and so remained still. The trebuchets had returned to the fight and found their range again. The great stones being hurled into the Mongol ranks were wreaking havoc.

There were assassins holding a line.

A small group of Mongols had spotted them and Umarpressed her father backwards toward the wall with the Venetians. He clicked his hidden blades into place and the first unfortunate man caught his body weight and his blades to his face.

However, another joined the fray from behind the group. With a strange battle cry, Altair felt his heart skip seeing it was his sister as she took two down by stabbing them from behind. Umar gasped as she came to him, standing back to back with him, weapons ready as she panted. The last Mongol fell to a stab to the chest by her as Umar knocked him down. She rose to her feet slowly, but unaided. Behind her Niccoló and Maffeo stood with their swords ready before Altair.

Another group came forward. This time only four and an officer. A'sha leapt over a cliff edge. Niccoló called out, but then he watched a man walking too close to the edge be grabbed and thrown to the abyss below. The cliff was not high, but high enough to be deadly. A'sha pulled herself up and gasped seeing twenty around the corner at a narrow area. She took a breath. Her brother stepped to her.

"A'sha, fall back." He murmured.

"And let you have all the fun?" She panted grinning at him.

"You are not in your prime."

"Neither are you." She countered.

She readied herself to die here if need be. "Stay back!" She barked, but Altair had other ideas. She was panting. She was no longer in her youth, but she would defend her brother and his guests with her life. Altair realized that was the point. She knew she was dying. Better to die as an assassin than choking on her on spit in a bed.

He lifted the Apple, he had now always on his person, and as A'sha dropped the first, Umar the second, she looked up and gasped as the ghosts of assassins leapt from the rocks above and landed on the Mongols killing them instantly. She looked back at Altair as he let the Apple cool and smiled. "Or that is one way to handle it. Thank you, brother." She said wiping her mouth and nose. She ignored the blood that streaked, but Altair had noticed.

"Sorry to rob you of your fun, but we really need to be on our way, my sister." Altair remarked dryly.

She grinned. Altair had more humor these days, but it was like the leaves at her feet, dry and merciless.

They continued unmolested until they came to the last line of houses. A'sha and Umar looked at each other. He nodded grimly at his mother and they leapt on the offensive. Four fell to the assassin blades and four more to the Apple's illusions.

A'sha dropped to her knees panting and coughing. Umar knelt by her. "Mother."

She smiled up at him. "Perhaps I should have thought better of this." She said weakly trying to gain air in her lungs. He helped her stand and aided her walking as they both held their swords. They were both bloody from their minor hurts and the blood of their enemies. The last kill that A'sha had gained had caused a blood fountain that had covered her from chin to breast in blood spatter.

A rider was coming toward them at a gallop. It was Darim and he came to a halt as they came into the village near the stables on the side of the village away from the fighting, but there was still a sense of urgency. He dismounted and walked to where they stood. The Polos went and began to load their items in a cart. Some of the books belonged to the library, but Darim and Umar had decided they would be safe with them.

"We will rest briefly here in the village." Altair said as he looked at his son.

Umar nodded and then lightly kissed his mother's brow. He nodded behind him as two assassins came up. They would be the escort party. One was Sef the Younger. At twenty-seven now, the lad was a man and good at his craft. He had already moved his family to Acre where he would remain to teach the new assassins who would be among the people. His wife, who was with child, was an assassin also, one of the ones whom Altair had brought into the order and A'sha and Sitt had been training after her return to Masyaf. Sef would keep the tradition of using either gender since it was more about ability to learn and understand the Order's tenets.

"You seem to have the enemy in check." Altair said looking at the battle going on a distance away.

Darim nodded. "But for how long is the question, Father."

"I have every faith in you. After all, you are not a boy any longer." Altair said.

A'sha chuckled. "He has not been a boy since sixteen, brother." She said as she sat on a bench, sipping water.

Darim's eyes narrowed at her, but he turned to his father refusing to give into the bait she gave him. "I am sixty-two years old." He said touching his silver hair. He was beardless, but his grey-blue eyes danced looking back at his aunt.

"You both make me feel quite ancient." Altair remarked teasingly.

A'sha could see the pallor on his cheeks and realized just how tired the old man was. As she he was feeling his age, but unlike her, he did not suffer from a malady that had been stealing her life by inches. He was putting on a front. She nodded to him and Darim followed her gaze and then nodded a little. He saw it too.

"Of course, we will rest and see our friends off properly." Darim said.

The small group was continuing to pack for their journey westward to the coast. A'sha was saying her goodbyes to her son who embraced her, lifting her from the ground and kissing her softly on her face. "I love you, mother."

She grunted feeling her back pop as he held her so. "We will come soon." She said dropping to a seat again.

He nodded.

Altair was finally able to rest and he slumped a little and leaned against Darim, who was beside him for support. "Father – are you hurt?" Darim asked, his voice full of concern.

Darim escorted his father to a bench under a tree and helped him sit before joining him. Altair took a deep breath. "Give me a moment." He said softly, panting, reluctant to give into the pain he felt. He took another deep breath and looked back up toward the castle. An aged man, he thought, was nothing but a paltry thing, like a tattered cloak upon a stick; but he had at least let his soul clap its hands and sing.

He looked at his sister who was bent down, trying to draw breath. Umar was rubbing her back as she coughed. He sighed. He was not sure she was long for this world.

"The end of an era." He whispered as Darim looked at him, his eyes bright and watchful even as A'sha moved to a retaining wall near them, her long robes stirring in the light breeze. While Darim's hood was down, her hood was up, though her braid hung down beside her neck rather than pinned to her head for action revealing her own hair was whiter and thinning now more than silver. Altair looked up at her from under his own cowl. His hands were cool and little more than skin and bone these days, but the grip was still strong as he looked from A'sha to Darim to Umar to the Polos.

"Father?" Darim asked curiously.

He lifted a small back from his side and removed the contents. Five obsidian discs, intricately carved were within. He stacked them neatly beside him and regarded the pair again. His son and daughter-in-law, some of the last of his family line with him now. "When I was very young, I was foolish enough to believe that our Creed would bring an end to all these conflicts. If only I had possessed the humility to say to myself, I have seen enough for one life. I have done my part. Then again, there is no greater glory than fighting to find the truth." He said.

A'sha took a breath, finally able to breath again. She came to her brother, looking at him curiously.

"Altair?" A'sha asked. "What are these discs?" She asked looking at them. She blinked and reached to touch one, but Altair stopped her taking her hand once more. "It would take too long for me to explain, my dove. I found them in Alamut. They are…" He paused looking up.

Niccoló Polo came up. "We are ready." He said.

Darim helped his father rise to his feet. Altair found his footing with an effort. Darim kept an arm on him and Umar moved to support his other side. "A last favor, Niccolò. Take these with you and guard them well. Hide them if you must." He said. His voice was soft.

Niccolò looked at him quizzically, but took the stones. "Artifacts?" He asked.

Altair nodded. "Of a kind. They are keys, each one imbued with a message."

Niccolò blinked looking at the discs as they shimmered a little. "A message for whom?" He examined one closely.

Altair shrugged. "I wish I knew."

A'sha nodded to the Polos and her son. They rode away and Darim felt his father's body giving out on him.

"Come, brother." Amal coaxed. "I will have Flora make you some hot broth."

"You need it more than I." He said watching her climb the small hill they needed to go up to return with some effort.

"Perhaps." She nodded ruefully.

She looked up and then gasped as she saw a Mongol archer lurking on a nearby house roof. She saw his aim. At her brother. She closed her eyes and time almost stood still.

She let out her breath and sprang to her feet, she knocked her son to the side and leapt forward. From the bench that was slightly higher on a small rise, she passed right before him as the arrow hit her right breast, changing her direction slightly, pressing her back against her brother. She dropped to the side of him.

All turned and Darim palmed a knife, throwing it expertly, hitting the archer who dropped to the earth dead.

Everyone moved quickly going to A'sha who was quivering in pain and not being able to draw breath. Altair cried out kneeling by her.

She looked up at him hand around the shaft. "My last service to you Mentor." She said, blood flicking her lips.

"Do not talk so. We will heal you. We did before."

She smiled almost sadly. "Not this time Altair." She looked upwards a moment. "Dying is cold and lonely." She whispered.

"I'm here." He gasped wrapped her in his embrace as he had when she had been scared as a child.

"I will save you a place in heaven brother." She said weakly. "Safety and peace…brother…"

He felt her life ebb as she went limp in his arms. "No…A'sha! Please! Come back!"

Altair howled in pain and anguish, pressing his brow to her own as he closed her now forever open eyes.

Darim had tears in his own eyes at the fall of his aunt.

After a moment he shifted. "Father. Let me take her. We must return to the fortress."

Altair looked up at him through his thick tears, but nodded. Darim lifted the body, so frail now in his arms. How had she managed to fight?

They walked back slowly to the castle.

The Mongols had been beaten back for now. Sitt and Cemal met Altair at the gate of the fortress.

"We have beaten them Mentor. The Khan retreats." Sitt said, face covered in the blood of those she had fought, eye dancing wildly with adrenaline.

Altair nodded. "Good. Very good." He sighed, shoulders slumping. "But the cost was high." He said looking back at Darim who reverently carried the body of A'sha in his arms.

Sitt cried out in horror as her joy turned to agony. Cemal grabbed her as she reached for her mother. She fought him a moment and then allowed him to hold her as Altair continued to the fortress.

A'sha's body was laid in state on a stone bier for now, covered with a thin cloth after Darim had removed the arrow that had taken her life. Sitt then moved to see her body ready for burial, weeping as she did her sad task.

Darim helped him to his bed in his room, slowly, one step at a time. He nearly collapsed twice from exhaustion and grief. Darim removed his boots and greaves and then helped his legs into the blankets.

Miriam arrived and helped get her father-in-law into bed to rest. As she did a hand shot out. She gasped startled. She looked down at his bright brown eyes. He squeezed her hand and she nodded to her husband.

"Treasure your time with her Darim. You will never know how much you miss those tender looks and that soft smile until you no longer have them."

He nodded. "Yes, father."

ZzZ

Cemal knocked at the door.

Darim looked up as Miriam opened the door. Cemal entered and saluted Altair who was resting in his bed. Miriam had been mending one of his shirts and smiled at the man whom Altair trusted.

"The Mongols have fallen back Mentor. They have retreated to Houla where their base is."

"Between us and Homs. They chose well." Altair remarked. He looked at Darim. "We must make ready. You must send the rest of the assassins to their cities as we discussed Darim. My library must be moved. The knowledge must…" He coughed a moment. "Be passed on."

Darim lifted a hand. "I will see it done. Cemal. With me. Miriam. Would you stay with him?" He asked.

She nodded and stepped to Darim. "Of course, need you ask?"

He touched her cheek affectionately. "I do not want to belittle your talents to making you do women's work, but it is the best for now. You of all people can keep him in bed." He said lowly.

She nodded and turned to Altair as her husband and Cemal left to go around up those left and move them to the towns they would now live in.

"I must make ready for you to leave, Father." Miriam said as she moved to pack a light trunk for him, collecting books from around his room that he had been working on and then his clothing and small trinkets. She left the Apple alone. She knew it was on his person.

He watched her saying nothing as she fused about like a woman. Her hood was backward and her long braid moved about her back and shoulder as she moved. She would occasionally flip it back if it dropped in her way.

Altair shook his head. He was not long for this world, but he could not tell her that or any. He would soon join his sister whom he needed to bury, but he did not want her to remain here, a treasure for the Mongols or perhaps others.


End file.
